


Naughty November

by alkjira



Series: Prompty Goodness [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Arranged Marriage, Car Sex, Clubbing, Cock Slut, F/F, F/M, Felching, Glory Hole, Hair-pulling, Handcuffs, High Heels, Hot Spots, Impregnation, Incest, Incubus Kíli, Knifeplay, M/M, Making Love, Masturbation, Multi, Necks, Orgy, Pregnancy, Priest Kink, Prostitution, Public Claiming, Scissoring, Sex Pollen, Small Penis, Strip Tease, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-20 17:59:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 26,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2437850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More smut ficlets, one for each day of November. Various pairings.<br/>Tags will be updated through out, please check them and chapter notes for more info.</p><p>For this bunch the stories will get to be any number of words they want to be, because Naughty November obviously will not be sticking to any rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1 – Small Cock – Dwalin/Bilbo

**Author's Note:**

> Hi peeps!  
> So this means there will be a story for each day of November. And then in December I will also try to post one story each day, but not necessarily smutty ones.
> 
> December will be Official Fix-it month for me, because yeah, we all know which film is premiering that month, and I will need ALL the Fix-its, and I’m sure you will too.
> 
> So if that sounds interesting, be sure not to miss it! And I would also suggest that you also post as many Fix-it stories as you can during December! :)
> 
> Amongst others my contribution to the Hobbit Reverse Big Bang will be posted ^^  
> Check this out if you want a sneak peek at the art.  
> http://fishsicle.tumblr.com/post/100805557682

The last thing Bilbo wanted to do was to pressure him into something he wasn’t ready for, but it was beginning to get a little frustrating how Dwalin would keep offering to suck him off while at the same time he didn’t even want to take off his own trousers. And how he made sure no hands strayed below his belt while having no problem touching Bilbo.  
  
If it had been the other way around, and Dwalin hadn't really wanted to touch him but still wouldn't mind getting sucked off, well that would have been the end of that relationship, but it would at least have made more logical sense to Bilbo. Dwalin was gorgeous, Bilbo... was not.

For the record, Bilbo was completely fine with Dwalin touching him, had no moral objections to blowjobs, it was the not-getting-to-touch-Dwalin part that bothered him, and bothered him quite a bit.  
  
They’d been dating for some time now, and if Dwalin wasn’t ready for sex that was fine, and he must have reasons for why he didn't like Bilbo's hands straying below the belt, but Bilbo rather thought they should be able to _talk_ about it.  
  
Then again, Bilbo had already discovered how Dwalin treated the phrase: ‘We need to talk.’ as if the true meaning of it was that he had ten seconds left to live before getting executed.  
  
This time was no exception and no sooner had the words left Bilbo’s mouth before the deer-caught-in-headlights-look entered Dwalin’s eyes.  
  
And it only got worse when Bilbo tried to make him feel better by nudging the plate of cookies closer to him. Dwalin really liked cookies, so they should have made him more comfortable, right? But apparently not so.  
  
“Are you breaking up with me?” Dwalin asked cautiously.  
  
“What? No!” Bilbo protested. “Why- no!”  
  
Dwalin’s shoulders relaxed a little and he reached out for one of the cookies.  
  
-  
  
A long, rather awkward and very slow-moving talk later (and several cookies) Bilbo had learnt that it was the size of Dwalin’s penis that was the concern. And a little while after that he learnt that it was _not_ a matter of Dwalin thinking that it was too big, no indeed not.  
  
“You don’t want to sleep with me because you think that I will think your cock is too small?” Bilbo blinked at his boyfriend. “I’m sorry, but that’s- I’d want to sleep with you even if you didn’t have one.”  
  
Sure, there might have been a few idle fantasies concerning what it would be like if Dwalin’s cock had been as big as the rest of him, but Bilbo was nothing if not adaptable.  
  
“We’re not doing anything you don’t want to do, but if you’re holding back on my account-“ Bilbo shook his head. “It’s quite unnecessary.”  
  
Dwalin made a non-committal sound and chomped down on another cookie, but his shoulders were now only the slightest bit tense.  
  
All in all Bilbo thought the their talk had been a marvellous success and vowed to always have cookies on hand for any and all future ones.  
  
-  
  
Bilbo bit his tongue. He wasn’t sure how Dwalin would take to being informed that he had the cutest cock Bilbo had ever seen. It was _adorable_. And so pretty. He wanted to pet it. And… and unless Dwalin _really_ was a grower, Bilbo would be able to get all of Dwalin’s cock into his mouth without problem.  
  
As his mouth watered Bilbo had to swallow or he'd end up drooling. And as Dwalin reached for his pants he had to protest.  
  
“ _No._ Please, don’t get dressed again.”  
  
“You don’t like it,” Dwalin said flatly, and that was so wrong that Bilbo couldn’t find the words to explain just how wrong it was and instead he merely made an embarrassing bleating sound and reached up to curl his arms around Dwalin’s neck, dragging him down for a kiss.  
  
He’d gotten naked first, not wanting Dwalin to be the only one naked (and yes, admittedly also hoping that they would sleep together after Dwalin had realised that he’d not need to be concerned about the size of his penis) and while it was far from the first time they’d kissed this was the first kiss with this much naked skin pressed against equally naked skin.  
  
As that realisation hit Bilbo shivered and pressed himself closer still to Dwalin’s solid form. Dwalin was so warm, and it got even better as he slowly wrapped his arms around Bilbo, bringing even _more_ lovely skin into play.  
  
In the absence of cookies, kissing seemed to be the way to go, because as they kissed Bilbo could feel the tension drain out of Dwalin, muscles going looser, and one of his hands found itself a home on Bilbo’s arse, something Bilbo heartily approved of. Especially when it began to knead and squeeze.  
  
He also approved greatly of how Dwalin’s little cock was now hard; pressed up against Bilbo’s stomach, rocking against him each time Dwalin’s hips moved, the rough hair at his groin scratching the soft skin of Bilbo’s stomach.  
  
Bilbo moaned into the kiss as the idea of going down on his knees and sucking Dwalin off popped into his head again, but considering that his knees would definitely not thank him for that, Bilbo instead broke the kiss, and after a few shaky breaths he managed to propose a relocation to the bed, half expecting that Dwalin would turn him down.  
  
But praise whatever deities who looked out for chubby professors, because he did not. He nodded, and the next Bilbo knew was being carried towards the bed.  
  
-  
  
Dwalin’s cock was rather thick, but no longer than Bilbo’s longest finger, and it was worth mentioning that Bilbo did not have big hands.  
  
It was- adorable was still the word that came first to mind. His stones were scaled to size, perhaps a little bigger than you'd think, and thus, adorable as well.  
  
It was also possible that Dwalin’s bits looked even smaller than they really were since the rest of him was so big.  
  
His arms were almost the size of Bilbo’s thighs, and Dwalin’s thighs… Bilbo was prepared to write sonnets about Dwalin’s thighs now that he finally got to see them without denim blocking the view.  
  
Dwalin was _beautiful_ , but he wasn’t exactly what most people would call pretty. Except for his cock. Not that most people would know, at least any time soon, because Bilbo had no plans on sharing and he hoped Dwalin was all right with that plan as well.  
  
“May I suck you, please?” Bilbo asked, from his position straddling Dwalin’s stomach, and Dwalin nodded mutely and stroked his hands down Bilbo’s back.  
  
Bilbo, with all the gravitas appropriate for a professor at a rather prestigious university, refrained from both gleefully clapping his hands and grinning like a maniac, and instead stole another kiss before squirming down to lie between Dwalin’s legs.  
  
His mouth watering again Bilbo needed to swallow twice before continuing, as well as reaching between his own legs to give his cock a stern squeeze and telling it to behave. It was far too early to be this excited already.  
  
Not that his brain listened to that ear. It was very busy replacing all the fantasies of being fucked by Dwalin’s huge dick to such things as Dwalin fucking him with his small dick; perhaps with one thick finger at the same time, or Dwalin fucking him with a huge dildo while rubbing himself off, or Bilbo fucking Dwalin hard enough and good enough that Dwalin’s lovely little erection would keep bouncing and then spurt messily all over himself; needing Bilbo to clean him. With his tongue. Twice. Or maybe more. Because he remembered what he'd been like at Dwalin's age. And Bilbo was perfectly willing to snuggle down between Dwalin's legs and lick and suck until he was panting and flushed all over, on that edge of too much and not enough.  
  
Would having him come more than three times be greedy or just... well, nice?  
  
Not even trying to be polite anymore Bilbo licked his lips before taking Dwalin’s cock inside his mouth. Let's start with one and see where that led them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have my head canon for this verse. Because I have a lot of it for some reason.
> 
> Dwalin is younger than Bilbo, they met through mutual friends, and Dwalin is a little unsure of himself both because of the age difference and how Bilbo has a good career in academia, is rather well-off, and stuff like that, while Dwalin didn’t see the point of going to University (much to Balin’s disapproval) and instead works as a mechanic. He’s good at his job, and takes home a good pay check, but Bilbo’s got a fucking manor house inherited from his parents, which an actual library and like four bedrooms and yeah… 
> 
> Bilbo on the other hand has never paid much attention to the money he got from his parents and is somewhat oblivious to anything except the age difference (if you said the words Sugar Daddy to him he would be horribly confused and inquire if it was a candy of some sort?) and despite how Dwalin is basically twice Bilbo’s size, Bilbo really feels the need to be careful with Dwalin. 
> 
> And at the same time he’s nervous he’s going to lose Dwalin once he figures out that a stuffy old professor type is clearly not the person someone like Dwalin really wants. Dwalin has a six-pack, Bilbo has a stomach earned from too many sandwiches and late nights falling asleep at his desk. Dwalin has tattoos, Bilbo has ink stains. And so on.
> 
> But they’re adorably in love, and now after having cleared the air re what’s in Dwalin’s pants they’ll go on to be adorable together.


	2. Day 2 - Doppelgangers - Dís/Thorin(s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incest, naturally enough considering the pairing.

She’d lost count, and every time she tried to concentrate and pull away from the kiss long enough to check how many hands were now touching her - or how many dark heads were bent over her; pressing kisses to her skin - Thorin murmured a protest into her mouth, and Thorin stroked her cheek, and Thorin tightened his hands on her hips as he began fucking her a little bit faster, a little bit harder, a little bit more perfect.  
  
It felt as if there were dozens of her brother inside the room with her, but that couldn’t be right. Could it?  
  
Dís didn’t question were they all would have come from, no, for some reason that thought did not even occur to her, but there was just no way they would all be able to fit inside her bedroom, fit on her bed.

Big, warm, calloused hands stroked and caressed her breasts; fingers rubbing and tweaking her nipples which were already pebbled and aching for touch, and as Thorin flicked his tongue over one of the tender buds Dís arched up into the sensation.

Thorin and Thorin immediately took advantage of her bared neck to suck nibbling kisses into the tender skin there, one on each side of her.  
  
Their beards made her shiver as the sensation was a mix between ticklish and getting an itch scratched. And their kisses, and the hot panting breaths against her neck, made her moan and tighten her hands into the hair of the Thorin making love to her belly button; kisses and teasing licks of his tongue setting of sparks in nerves Dís hadn’t even known were connected to that particular place on her body.  
  
She must have tightened around Thorin's cock as well, because he groaned and then she could feel him pulsing inside of her, his seed joining that of those who'd already spent inside of her.  
  
The night had started out normal enough, with a soft knock on her door before it was gently pulled open. Dís, already in bed, had grinned up at the ceiling before briefly considering to pretend to already be sleeping, just to make Thorin suffer a little for being tardy. But she had decided not to, and as Thorin closed the door behind him, Dís had pulled the blankets away from herself, opening her arms to her brother.  
  
"You're late."  
  
"I'll make it up to you."  
  
It had happened sometime after Thorin had undressed. Suddenly there’d been more than two hands touching her, but as Dís had gasped and snapped her head to the side, the eyes that met hers were still her brother’s. Pale blue, much like her own, but only a thin rim of blue had remained around the black.  
  
“It’s all right,” Thorin had whispered, other Thorin nodding along.  
  
"Trust me."  
  
As he leaned in for a kiss Dís stretched her head up to meet him, fingers twining together with those of the other Thorin. 

Of course she trusted him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And let's all pretend that there's a logical explanation somewhere. Or not, as you please, lol.


	3. Day 3 - Felching - Bilbo/Glóin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glóin needs more love. His wife can learn to share *nods*

Bilbo shuddered and moaned as he felt Glóin spend inside of him. The Dwarf’s hips jerked several times, and even though Bilbo couldn’t feel anything more than a slight blossoming heat inside, he knew he was being filled to the brim of thick come.  
  
Even though he had already found his own peak, Bilbo felt his own cock give an interested twitch.

Silly greedy thing, thinking that it still belonged to someone in their thirties who could tumble about in bed for hours.   
  
As Glóin pulled out, Bilbo flinched a little, not because of any hurt, but because of the sudden feeling of emptiness.   
  
“Are you all right?” Glóin rumbled, broad hands stroking up and down Bilbo’s back, over his hips and flanks.  
  
Bilbo turned his head to the side and smiled at his lover. The Hobbit’s breathing was still unsteady, and it took two false-starts before he was able to speak.  
  
“Just fine,” he promised, wriggling his hips a little as he felt Glóin’s seed begin to make its way out of him. “If you could-“

get a washcloth, Bilbo had been about to say, but the words escaped him as Glóin rubbed a thick thumb against his opening, smearing the come and the almond oil they’d used to ease the way.  
  
The thumb dipped inside to the first knuckle, and Bilbo sucked in a sharp breath, head suddenly too heavy to hold up and he had to turn away from Glóin, allowing his forehead to rest against the mattress.

“I seem to have made quite a mess out of you,” Glóin said apologetically, even as he began to pump his thumb in and out, which didn’t exactly make Bilbo more tidy. Each slow drag was accompanied with a slick, lewd sound, and Bilbo could feel more seed escaping around the plug of Glóin’s thumb. It was a much larger thumb than Bilbo could boast, but compared to Glóin’s cock its size was nothing to brag about.  
  
“Quite all right,“ Bilbo breathed into the mattress. “But I think I will need to clean myself before-“  
  
“Luckily I can help with that.”  
  
He pulled his thumb out, and Bilbo’s eyes widened as he could hear the wet sound of Glóin licking something. Had he just...?

The bed dipped and moved as the Dwarf rearranged himself, but Bilbo was just a little too distracted to pay attention.  
  
“Did you just-“  
  
But once more, Bilbo’s words proved to be flighty things, because at the first touch of a bristly beard against the back of his thighs, the rest of his question was nowhere to be found.  
  
At the first swipe of a tongue against his hole, Bilbo rather supposed he might never be able to speak again.  
  
If he’d been able to, he might have protested, because what Glóin was doing wasn’t proper at all! But with his words gone, Bilbo could only moan. Without really asking his opinion, his legs tried to spread themselves wider. Unfortunately his arms were no longer capable of holding him up, and he ended up with his upper body pressed against the bed, arse still raised as Glóin now held his hips in an unfairly steady grip.

Glóin was not at all concerned with was what proper or not, because he licked into Bilbo with a happy hum, and all the enthusiasm of a Dwarf, or Hobbit, being served a delicious meal.  
  
Between his legs, Bilbo’s cock gave another _firmer_ notice that it was considering getting hard again. Fine, Bilbo admitted. Not so silly after all. But definitely greedy. 


	4. Day 4 - Prostitute - Ori/Dwalin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erm, trigger warning for selling sexual favours?

Ori knew life wasn’t like a stupid Hollywood film. And as far as he could see, it wasn’t even like Dwalin needed saving in the first place. Which… was good. Ori had a pretty decent salary, but he couldn’t afford to give Dwalin enough money for him to stop working. And it wasn’t like Dwalin was spending his days standing on the street corners anyway. Which was... good. There wasn’t at all some part of Ori that was upset about not being able to be the Richard Gere to Dwalin’s Julia Roberts, because that would have been all sorts of wrong and ridiculous besides.  
  
If anyone saw them together, and were told that one of them was selling sex for money, Ori was fairly sure that he would have been picked as the prostitute every time. He was the slim, young, almost too pretty one. Dwalin was broad shouldered and well-muscled, tattooed and looked as if he’d break your arm if you as much as asked for his number. But it wasn’t _Ori’s_ number that was connected to a discreet escort service that just as discreetly promised more than just escorting.  
  
A number that Ori shouldn’t have called in the first place, but he’d just been so tired of being alone all the time. And tired being asked why he didn’t just date more. And tired of explaining how he tried, but he never met someone that he wanted, or when he did, it wasn't someone who wanted him.  
  
He’d told himself that he only needed someone to join him on the annual charity dinner sponsored by his employer. It wouldn’t go any further than just someone smiling at him, holding his hand, touching him on the arm. Maybe a kiss. But that was _it_. It wasn’t a date, it was a business arrangement. Meant to stop annoying questions. Nothing more.  
  
Right.  
  
Best of intentions and all that. Because the moment Ori had laid eyes on his ‘date’, and Dwalin’s massive hand had wrapped around his own to give a firm but gently shake, his knees had gone embarrassingly unsteady. And during dinner, when Dwalin had leaned close, one big hand placed on Ori’s thigh, and murmured in his ear about how it wasn’t too late to change his mind about how the night would end, Ori had allowed the hand to creep further and further up his thigh, and then he’d nodded to Dwalin.

The night had ended with him on his back in his bed, not even undressed all the way, getting the best fuck of his life by Dwalin who was still wearing most of his tuxedo.  
  
Ori had only gotten so far as taking his trousers off when Dwalin pushed him into the bed, and apparently kissing was something prostitutes did after all, because Dwalin was good enough at it that Ori’s toes curled inside the socks he was still wearing.

After that his brain must have gone on a bit of a power-saving mode, because he only remembered bits and pieces of what happened.

Pushing Dwalin’s jacket off his shoulders as they kissed on the bed. Dwalin swearing as he couldn’t unbutton Ori’s shirt. The sight of Dwalin’s thick cock jutting out from the open fly of his trousers. Scrambling to find a condom and lube, and despairing when he realised he didn’t actually own any condoms as they were not required for wanking. Joy, and realisation, when Dwalin produced one with a wry grin.  
  
Being opened up on broad fingers, while still being kissed.

Not being able to keep his eyes open as he came. Not being able to tear his eyes away from Dwalin as he groaned, shuddered and followed.

  
It had been the first time, but not the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin works as an escort, but actually ONLY as an escort. He does not sleep with people for money. The discreet promise of more than escorting is so discreet because it doesn't actually exists. Ori just over-interpreted. (Ori rather likes to think he understands everything)
> 
> Anyway, when Ori called he was very earnest about saying that he only needed someone to accompany him to a dinner, he did not wish to buy sex, please and thank you. Dwalin found that rather amusing, and of course had no trouble agreeing to just dinner. Being nice he didn't tell the guy he was barking up the wrong tree. Streetlight. Or whatever. 
> 
> Then, when he met Ori, he found him gorgeous. He'd been expecting someone who clearly couldn't get a date on his own. And Ori was not only beautiful, but smart too, and clever, and it was breaking all sorts of rules, but Dwalin couldn't help but suggest that Ori might want to sleep with him after all. Because he could see that Ori was definitely attracted to him.
> 
> Dwalin had a condom on him not because he was expecting to use it that night, but because he's a sexually active single adult, and it's best to be prepared *nods*
> 
> He'd not really expected Ori to call again, but Ori did. And so began an odd series of dates where the both of them have a rather guilty conciousness-
> 
> Ori kept trying to convince himself that Dwalin *had* to want it, because he wasn't paying extra for Dwalin to sleep with him, it was the same fee as just being 'escorted'. And Dwalin feeling guilty about lying about what he actually did for a living, and being moronically nervous that Ori wouldn't actually want him if he couldn't pay. He knows Ori has not have good experiences with dating. And some guys really seemed to have a hard on for hookers. (Being able to knock most people on their arse came in handy for those who didn't understand what escorting actually meant.)
> 
> In the end they both end up confessing to each other. Ori confessing how he doesn't want Dwalin to sleep with his other clients, and Dwalin confessing that he's never actually done that, um, sorry I lied about being a hooker.
> 
> And they live happily ever after.


	5. Day 5 -  Sex pollen - Dori/Balin pre-Dori/Balin/Bofur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex pollen is another thing that is dub-con for me, as the people involved are not 100% knowing what's going on.  
> So if it's the same for you, you've been warned. 
> 
> But it starts out with an already established couple who are happy to sleep together, and it doesn't really go any further than that in the story. And it's pretty much an "inhabitions? What inhabitions?"-thing anyway.

The shape-shifter’s garden was large enough that they should _finally_ be awarded some privacy, at least for the fairly short amount of time that would be needed. It had been much too long, and even just the act of undressing, and watching Balin undress; knowing what was to come, pushed Dori terribly close to the edge.

He had pilfered some oil from the kitchen, but they didn’t use it. Too eager, and happy just to feel skin against skin, trading urgent kisses as they rubbed themselves against thighs, bellies and into helping hands.

Dori came first, spurting against Balin’s stomach, and Balin was quick to follow as Dori stroked him with fingers made wet and slick by his own seed.  
  
Panting, they collapsed in a naked, content pile, Dori rolling of Balin to nestle against him, one arm thrown across his thick chest.   
  
“That was nice.”  
  
“Just nice?” Balin asked, lightly stroking his fingers down Dori’s side. Much too lightly, and Dori squirmed at the ticklish touch. Balin did not fail to notice this, and repeated it, again and again, until they were rolling around on the grass, Dori hiccupping with laughter.

“Peace!” Dori giggled just as they rolled up against a large flowering bush. “I-“  
  
They both sneezed, and Dori looked up at the bush; sneezed again.  
  
In the bright sunshine he could see a cloud of golden dust settling over them, the dust having fallen from the flowers, knocked loose as they bumped into the bush.

Dori was suddenly aware of how he was aching again, hard against Balin’s thigh as though it'd been hours and not minutes. And Balin was in a similar state; cock hot and stiff and insistent against Dori’s stomach.

“May I?” Balin asked, hand trailing down Dori's stomach, around to cup his arse. Balin's eyes were half-lidded and _hungry_ , and Dori tried to nod, but as it was rather hard to lie down and nod at the same time, especially with someone lying on top of you, he gave up on the attempt and instead surged up to kiss his lover.

After a quick tussle and discussion; both started when Balin refused to take him without preparation - what did Dori care about oil when he felt like he was about to go crazy if Balin didn’t fuck him - they managed to untangle themselves enough to get up and collect the oil, which (after a frustrating minute) was discovered to still be where Dori had first put it.

Pouring a good amount of it in his palm, Dori wrapped his hand around Balin’s cock, which was _already_ quite slick with both their seed, thank you very much.

Having fulfilled Balin’s demand for preparation Dori sank down to the grass once more, pulling Balin down with him.  
  
“Take me,” Dori demanded, turning around and getting on his hands and knees. He hissed in displeasure when Balin stroked over his opening with slick, trembling fingers. “That’s not necessary!”

“I won’t hurt you.”  
  
“I know,” Dori said impatiently, canting his hips up as two of Balin’s thick, beautiful fingers sank into him. It wasn't nearly enough. “I also know you’re being quite silly.”  
  
Balin hummed, but agreeably added a third finger when Dori’s body made no protests. And then a fourth. Which Dori suspected was just to be contrary.  
  
“Enough,” Dori protested, reaching back to curl his fingers around Balin’s wrist. “Fuck me.”  
  
Balin shuddered. “Ask me again, like that.”  
  
“I’m not _asking_ ,” Dori said crossly. “I’m telling you to _fuck me_.”

They both looked up as they heard a sneeze.

“I-“ Bofur sneezed again, cheeks flushed apple red. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I heard voices-“  
  
Dori eyed the impressive bulge straining against the cloth of Bofur’s trousers, and the way the blush on his cheeks deepened as he watched as Balin (at last!) sank his cock inside Dori. Inch by inch, in one steady push that made Dori's head swim and his cock paint the grass below him with stripes of white. 

It was everything he'd wanted, but...

After taking a few shallow breaths, Dori licked his lips and looked up at Bofur, who was standing still enough that he might have been stone.  “I would not say that you’re _intruding_. And that-" he eyed Bofur's crotch meaningfully. "-can't be comfortable."

"Always thinking about others," Balin murmured and wrapped his hand around Dori's cock, which hadn't softened at all since he spurted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bofur/Dori/Balin strikes me as one of those great combos that I've somehow never thought about before.


	6. Day 6 - Porn/Erotica - Ori, solo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in a verse where they've reclaimed Erebor, and everyone survived because I want it to be sooooo.
> 
> Mentions of OMC/OFC, OMC/OMC

When Ori had stumbled upon that particular section in the library his cheeks had burned as brightly and fiercely as the hot forges deep inside the mountain.  
  
Ered Luin had also been gifted with a library, but _there_ the books that you needed to hide from your older brothers had only occupied a single shelf.  
  
Heart beating a little quicker Ori pulled out one of the thick tomes closest to him, gently tracing the image on the cover with the tip of his finger. The three Dwarfs happily coupling in the illustration paid him to mind, busy fucking, sucking and being sucked or fucked. Well, and busy being nothing more than an image.  
  
The book, along with several others of varying discretion, were placed into the basket he’d brought with him.

He had the basket because if there was a life lesson both Dori and Nori agreed on it was to always be prepared. 

  
-  
  
“What are you reading?” Dori asked absently as he prepared dinner.  
  
“Um,” Ori looked down at the open page, and the graphic description of a prince of legend having no less than three lovers at the same time. One of them an _Elf_.  
  
The Elf, a fierce warrior, had just speared herself on the prince’s stout cock, demanding that he’d prove just how mighty the Dwarven kind was.

The book had no images of course. He wasn't stupid. 

  
“It’s history,” Ori fibbed. “Almost anyway. It’s about a prince that died so long ago that no one is sure he even existed.”  
  
“Any good?”

The language was a little dry at times, but the story itself was anything but. And it had lovely bland covers that didn’t give away anything about the story. And the title was written in neat little runes on the spine, naming it only as Volume II.  
  
Ori hadn’t found Volume I yet, which proved that someone really needed to do a proper inventory of the library. And he wouldn't mind being that Dwarf.   
  
“It’s not bad,” Ori admitted, knowing that even if-  
  
“Hmm, I might read it sometime then.”  
  
\- he said that he would, Dori would never actually ask to read it. Dori liked the idea of books well-enough, but never took the time to open one, preferring to devote his free time to other pursuits.

He quite literally did not know what he was missing.

  
-

_Ghel’s tunnel was snug as Erd pressed a second slick finger inside of him. It was all the preparation needed, and wanted, and Erd soon replaced his digits with something much more substantial._   
  
_“I’m so full,” Ghel moaned. “Yes, give me your mighty hammer. I have never felt so stretched!”_   
  
_The first few thrusts of Erd’s fat cock hit just the right spot, but then his lover changed the angle, leaving Ghel hovering on the edge as the ultimate pleasure danced so close but just out of his reach._

_-_

Ori bit his lip and carefully put the book down on his desk. Not quite as carefully he scrambled over to his bed, pulling off his shirt and unlacing his trousers as he went.

He had been reading for quite a while and it didn't take long, a few tugs, before Ori spurted on his stomach. 

Lying on the bed, smallclothes and trousers pushed down to his ankles, socks still on, Ori grinned up at the ceiling and thought about the many many more books waiting for him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why aren't there more stories with characters getting off to porn/erotica?


	7. Day 7 - Public Claiming - Nori/Fíli, Ori/Bifur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set pre-quest.  
> Established Nori/Fíli, Bifur/Ori, and (even though it's not actually in the story, Kíli/Dwalin, say hello to my brain and its need for a story larger than the actual story)  
> Bifur/Ori is a side pairing, and will not partake of the smut.
> 
> Again, hints of dub-con because of the situation. (idek why this set of prompts are borderline dub-con so often)  
> The public claiming of the prompt would not have happened if there'd not been a 3rd party demanding it, but that it does happen is consensual, and it could have been avoided.

In some parts of Ered Luin it didn’t matter if you were a prince or not. The only thing that mattered was if you had someone to watch your back, and if that person was good enough to get you out of there alive.  
  
Which was why Nori was prepared to kill Fíli with his own two hands when he found out that his lover had gone into just such a place, together with Ori.  
  
“No, you can’t come,” he snapped at Dwalin. “Not if we want to get out of there alive. If we're lucky they'll not actually know Fíli, but Mahal knows they'll  recognize you. Stay here, tell the highnesses, and Dori, and make sure they stay here as well.”  
  
“Take Bifur,” Dwalin replied, and Nori gave him a grateful look, because it was not only a good idea, it was also acceptance of his plan. He didn’t have any time to argue, nor to stand around, so Nori nodded at Dwalin and then moved to track down Bifur.  
  
-  
  
“I am going to _murder_ him,” Nori growled as he and Bifur walked briskly into the seedy underbelly of Ered Luin. It was the old parts of the city, the parts that had been abandoned as newer and better halls had been built. But of course, even discarded things could still hold value to someone else.  
  
“And after I’ve murdered him, I’m going to find a way to bring him back to life so I can do it again.”  
  
Bifur didn’t reply, except for a sigh.  
  
“And once more for dragging my brother into-“  
  
“ _Ori well knows his own mind,”_ Bifur said.  
  
“Great, then you have my permission to kill him too.”  
  
“Promising violence so early in the morning, Nori?”  
  
Nori dug his nails into his palms as he recognized the voice.  
  
“Not all of us think that sleeping to mid-day is acceptable, Dani," he gritted out. "It's not close to early morning."  
  
“I’d say that depends on when you go to bed,” Dani smirked as she slid out of the shadows, her thick black hair tied up neatly in an arrangement of braids. “Long time no see. What brings you here?”  
  
She either hadn’t heard what they were talking about, or she was pretending that she hadn’t. So she was either sloppy or someone Nori would also strangle. Slowly.  
  
“I’ve lost something,” Nori said, baring his teeth in something that wasn’t a smile. “Two things actually. Both about your height, light-haired, about to get strangled as soon as I get my hands on them. If you’ve not seen them, get out of my way.”  
  
“What’s it worth to you?” Dani asked, dark eyes twinkling with amusement. “Because I might have seen-“  
  
“What do you want?” Nori asked, crossing his arms. “I don’t have time to play with you, Dani.”  
  
She glanced at Bifur, who looked back impassively. “Will he keep his mouth shut?”  
  
“Yes,” Nori said, without even glancing in Bifur’s direction. “Tell me what you want and what you know.”  
  
-  
  
The promise to help steal some jewels was easy enough, and Nori might even uphold his end of the bargain. At least if Dani’s plan didn’t turn out to be stupid.  
  
In return he was given the name of a tavern, and Nori breathed a small sigh of relief, because if Dani was correct, that was definitely one of the better places Fíli and Ori could have ended up in.  
  
“Your job will be to look suitably menacing,” he hissed to Bifur as they stood outside the gate to the tavern. “Watch our backs. Do as I say.”  
  
“ _Agreed_ ,” Bifur nodded, hand on the small axe he’d chosen to strap to his belt.  
  
-  
  
The two of them were sitting together in a corner of the room, surrounded by a group of Dwarfs that Nori prayed would be in possession of some common sense, because even though he was definitely angry enough for a brawl, he’d rather avoid one. That way he would be able to start his murder of the crown prince all that much quicker.  
  
“Excuse me,” Nori called as they were about half-way through the room. “I know they’re pretty, but we saw them first.”  
  
As Fíli and Ori both had the nerve to look relieved to see him and Bifur. Nori had to grit his teeth as to not begin shouting about moronic princes and brothers with less sense than your average chicken.  
  
He didn’t recognize anyone of the gathered Dwarfs, which could be good as it meant they weren’t notorious enough to have made a name for themselves, and it could be bad, because he had no idea what they were actually capable of.  
  
“Fuck off,” one of them growled. “They were coming with us.”  
  
“We weren’t,” Fíli protested, despite Ori tugging on his tunic to shut him up. Ori was much too kind for his own good, quite literally. Jabbing Fíli in the stomach with his elbow would have been a much better option.  
  
“Shut up,” Nori ordered at the same time one of the other Dwarfs did. Fíli leaned back against the wall, a pout on his lips, and yes, Nori was definitely going to strangle him. By _Mahal_ , what had prompted him to wake up and turn into such a brat this particular morning.

“There’s-“ Nori did a quick count. “Seven of you, two of us-“ he nodded at Bifur. “But I’ve got something like thirty knives on my person.” A quick flick of the wrist and a small silver dagger flashed into existence. “Plenty for everyone. Not to mention that I’ve already pointed out that the two morons you’ve cornered are not yours to keep.”  
  
Fíli’s pout grew at being called a moron.  
  
“But they’re _yours_?” The largest of the bunch asked, looking at Nori’s knife.

“Yes,” Nori said shortly.  
  
“Prove it.”  
  
“Prove it?” Nori snorted. “I’m sorry, we’ve not gotten to the point where names are being tattooed on arses.” He shot Fíli a narrowed-eye glare. “But the idea has some merit.”

“Make goldilocks here suck you off,” Big’n’Ugly suggested, grinning down at Nori. “If he’s _yours_ , that is.”  
  
Nori was just about to give up and send daggers flying into the throats of the three closest morons, his lover not included, when he caught an intrigued gleam in Fíli’s eyes.

Mahal’s balls, if that was the way he wanted it…  
  
“And leave me standing with my trousers down?” Nori shook his head. “I think not. But-“ he added when Big’n’Ugly was about to protest. “Tell you what, I'll have him coming in his pants before you can count to two hundred.” He grinned up at the larger Dwarf. “If you can count that is.”

-

“You are in so much trouble,” Nori hissed as he quickly ran his hands over Fíli’s body, more to make sure that he was actually okay then anything related to what was about to happen.

Bifur had already collected Ori, and they were sitting together at a nearby table, Ori looking anywhere but towards them, and Bifur watching in case any of the morons would attempt something stupid. At least that's why Nori thought he was looking and he didn't much care either way.   
  
“I just-“  
  
“Save it for someone who cares.”  
  
“But-“  
  
“Shut it,” Nori warned, quickly trying to work out what the best way of proceeding would be.

It would be easiest if he stood behind Fíli, but he had no intention of placing his lover between himself and previously mentioned morons. And he wasn’t about to turn his back to them either, leaving the option of pressing himself to Fíli’s side.  
  
As he reached down to press his hand over Fíli’s groin, he wasn’t all that surprised to find him hard already.  
  
“You never said you like this,” Nori said as he nipped the lobe of Fíli’s ear. “Is it the fact that people are watching? Because if that’s the case, I think the audience could be-“  
  
“That’s not it,” Fíli said, voice just a little unsteady as he rocked his hips into Nori’s touch.  
  
“The danger?” Nori murmured as he glanced around the room. “Because if it’s a beating you want I promise you won’t be sitting comfortable for a week once I’ve got you back in our chambers.” With his free hand he delivered a hard slap to Fíli’s arse, grinning darkly as Fíli moaned. The prince’s right hand came up to wrap around Nori’s wrist; the one in charge of rubbing Fíli’s cock, pressing the hand more firmly against himself.

Nori knew that Fíli could likely break his wrist if he so wanted, if he didn’t want to be touched like this. And the fact that he didn’t do it, and instead just wanted _more_ , and _closer_ , and _harder_ , that made Nori’s own cock begin to sit up and take notice.

He smacked Fíli’s arse again, ignoring the encouraging shout from a couple of the morons watching in favour of savouring the way Fíli shuddered against him.  
  
“Not it, either,” Fíli managed.  
  
“What then, my little-“ Nori’s eyes widened as Fíli wobbled slightly as his knees decided that it was a perfect time to take a short break.  
  
“Mine,” Nori said, to test the theory that had just occurred to him, and he’d no sooner said the word before he could feel Fíli’s cock twitching beneath his palm.  
  
“Is that what had you hard and waiting for me?” Nori breathed into Fíli’s ear. “Me claiming you as _mine_?”  
  
There was no reply, except for Fíli wobbling slightly again.  
  
“Say it then,” Nori prompted, squeezing tighter around his handful. “Tell me what you are.”  
  
“I’m, yours,” Fíli said quietly, and Nori snorted, moving his palm up and down the hard length of Fíli’s cock, feeling the heat of it even through the layers of cloths separating skin from skin.  
  
“Louder.”  
  
“I’m yours,” Fíli promised, turning to look at Nori with eyes more black than blue; glazed over with pleasure.  
  
“Yes, you’re mine,” Nori growled, sinking his teeth into Fíli’s neck, at the same time squeezing his cock, and the blond shuddered and came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little incident (told somewhat censored) almost ended with Thorin not allowing Fíli and Ori to come on the quest. But there was about a year between this fic and the start of the quest, and they had managed to prove themselves more mature during that time, so they were finally allowed to come.
> 
> And as an extreeeeeme sidenote, I'm sure the Dwarfs have their own version of goldilocks. But I'm not yet entirely sure how it would go.
> 
> (Also I'm about to go to Ireland, anyone have any tips on what to do in Dublin?)


	8. Day 8 - Priest - Bard/Lindir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm guessing this might be kinda sacrilegious. Erm, sorry not sorry?
> 
> And I feel the need to warn that there's not much smut here.

Why did the atheist go to the church? To sit on a bench and think lewd thoughts about the priest, of course.

To be fair, the first time Bard had been to the church was because Sigrid had asked him to come.  
  
She’d been going through that phase that Bard could remember from his own teenage years, the search to find the answer to life, the universe and everything, because obviously everyone who had ever lived on the planet before her had been too stupid to figure it out.  
  
He’d bought her the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, but so far it hadn’t helped. Probably because it was someone else, someone _old_ , who had written it. Which was why Bard wasn't surprised when Sigrid rather quickly moved on from Christianity.  
  
She’d already tried and rejected Buddhism and whatever that New Age thing with all the crystals were called. The crystals had been allowed to stay, because they’d been deemed pretty, a few had been made into pendants, but his girl had declared that she no longer believed that the purple ones could be used to fix broken bones.  
  
Bard only hoped she hadn’t needed an actual test subject for that realisation, but he supposed that if that was the case he would have already gotten a call from the principle, as none of his other children had complained.  
  
Sigrid’s attempts to find the Christian god were as mentioned short-lived, and she moved on to poke at the Norse mythology instead, something Bard rather thought was more influenced by that bloke playing Thor in the Avengers than anything else.   
  
But Bard still ended up at the church every now and again, and he didn’t even try and lie to himself as to why his feet led him there.  
  
The priest, a Father Lindir, was _beautiful_.  
  
He had a soft warm light in his large brown eyes, looked more angelic than the marble statues of saints standing here and there in the church, and his neat straight dark hair made Bard’s hands itch from the need to mess it up. And he wouldn’t want to stop there.  
  
As Father Lindir talked and talked about why words written down in a book once upon a time long ago should influence how people lived, Bard entertained himself with thoughts of mussed hair, reddened lips, smooth skin flushed and covered in small, small bruises; from fingers and nipping kisses. Passion-glazed eyes and heaving chest.

Father Lindir had a beautiful voice, and Bard wondered how it would sound if it cried out _his_ name instead of singing of the glory of an imaginary friend in the sky.

-

“You never go to confession.”  
  
Bard smiled wryly at Father Lindir, who had stopped him as he was leaving after the mass. “I’m sure you wouldn’t like what I have to say.”  
  
“Only God will judge you.”  
  
He was so serious, so earnest, and Bard felt his lips twitching.  
  
“Thank you, but I don’t think it’s for me. I’m not even much a believer to start with.”  
  
“But you’re here,” Father Lindir said and smiled as if Bard’s very presence was a gift to him. “That has to mean something.”  
  
Bard was tempted to say that it meant he sought carnal fulfilment instead of spiritual one, or offering to kneel at Lindir’s feet and worship at the altar of his body, trite as such a line might be.   
  
The clothes the priest wore normally made it impossible to see much, if anything, of his body, but when he knelt down at the altar the fabric pulled tight over his arse, and that coupled with the elegant lines of his wrists and neck had convinced Bard that it was a greedy god who thought it right to keep that to himself. It was perhaps the first time Bard felt that he had anything in common with a deity. Not counting the days when it felt like the entire Earth could just get flushed away except for him and his family.   
  
“Another time, maybe,” he said, nodding at Father Lindir before leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what happens after this. But if they ever get in bed together... *fans self*


	9. Day 9 - Neck - Ori/Thorin

There was a reason as to why Ori usually wore a scarf around his neck. That reason was called Thorin Oakenshield.  
  
-  
  
Thorin’s nose bumped against the base of Ori’s neck, and the younger of the two shivered as Thorin merely stayed like that for a few moments, letting out hot puffs of air against Ori’s skin.

“Thoriiin,” Ori complained, pretending that it wasn’t actually a whine that had made its way out of his throat.

“Hmm?” Thorin said, and Ori could feel the smile pressed against his skin.  
  
“I could be reading a very good book right now,” Ori complained, even as his hands were creeping their way into Thorin’s thick dark hair. “Instead of letting you lie on top of me, breathing on my neck.”  
  
“You could,” Thorin agreed, depositing a small, tickling kiss on Ori’s throat. “I’m very-“ another kiss.”-thankful-“ another. “-that you’re not.”

Ori groaned as Thorin kissed his way down to the line of his collarbone, which were thoroughly mapped with his tongue and teeth.  
  
After quickly dipping down to kiss Ori’s nipples Thorin returned his attention to Ori’s neck.  
  
There were already a handful of bruises marking the otherwise unblemished skin, and Thorin made small content noises as he gently stroked his fingers over them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First one that's really kinda short.  
> Having no word limit has been interesting. *nods*


	10. Day 10 - Striptease - Bilbo/Frerin

“I’m a world away from complaining,” Frerin said, blinking confusedly at Bilbo over their kitchen table. “But what on earth brought on this idea? Thinking about a career change?”  
  
“I just thought it would be a fun thing to try,” Bilbo replied. “Don’t tell me that you’re opposed to getting to sit on your arse while I do all the work.”

Frerin did not seem to be listening. “You had your hair cut yesterday..." He snapped his fingers."You read it in one of those glossy magazines, didn’t you?”  
  
“…”  
  
“I knew it,” Frerin crowed. “Don't tell me, it was tips to spice up your relationship? Something like that? Though I’ll admit you have a point. Both about it being fun, and yes, about me being somewhat lazy.”  
  
“Somewhat,” Bilbo muttered.  
  
“But, will I get to touch you?”  
  
“I think the point is that you’re only supposed to look.”  
  
“I can look with my hands?”  
  
“I think only blind people are allowed to do that.” Bilbo frowned. “Though perhaps not at a strip club. But either way, you’ve got two perfectly functional eyes, use them.”  
  
Frerin held up his hands. “These will be very jealous. They might need some alone time with your arse later.”  
  
“Is that your way of proposing that you’ll keep your eyes closed and touch my butt?”  
  
“It is if that’s a yes?”  
  
“Why am I dating someone with the mental age of twelve again?”  
  
“Because I asked nicely instead of pulling on your pretty curls? And I bribed you with candy.”  
  
“It was very good candy,” Bilbo admitted, reaching over the table to twine their fingers together.  
  
“As if I would offer anything but the best to you,” Frerin said, lifting Bilbo’s hand so he could press a kiss to the knuckles. “You deserve nothing but the very best.” He grinned. “Hey, _that’s_ why you agreed to date me.”  
  
“No, I do think it was the chocolate.”  
  
-

Since he didn’t plan on dying of shame, Bilbo opted to pick his own music, ignoring Frerin’s offers to help.  
  
Other than that it didn’t really take much preparation. He’d been taking off his clothes for over thirty years, how hard could it be to do it too music anyway?  
  
-  
  
The answer to that was a little problematic.

Taking the clothes off wasn’t that difficult. Taking them off with anything like grace, aye, there’s the rub.  
  
Not that it really mattered. Frerin was a very easy-to-please audience of one, watching with avid interest as Bilbo unbuttoned his shirt, peeled down his trousers, and he was kind enough not to snicker out loud as Bilbo realised that there was just no way of gracefully taking off your socks.  
  
Now dressed in only his underwear, Bilbo approached Frerin where he was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, hands resting on his thighs, palms up.  
  
“Could you move your hands?” Bilbo asked, planning to sit down in Frerin’s lap and tease him a little as he wouldn’t be allowed to touch him back.  
  
Frerin’s hands twitched, and he mimed trying to lift them, but failing. “Sorry, seems like I can’t. Some sort of forcefield. Or maybe a glue related accident.”  
  
“I’m not sitting down _on_ your hands,” Bilbo protested. “That would rather destroy the point of you not touching me.”  
  
“But I wouldn’t be touching you,” Frerin said innocently. “You’d be touching me. Grinding your lovely arse all over my defenceless hands.”  
  
“You’re cheating.”  
  
“It’s not cheating if you simply exploit a fault within the set boundaries of the sport or game.” He winked at Bilbo. “You need better rules.”  
  
“I need handcuffs,” Bilbo muttered.  
  
Thick blond eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. “I would not be against that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to self, must eventually write more on the Witch!Bilbo story so I'll actually get to the Bilbo/Frerin parts of it.


	11. Day 11 - Uniform - Bofur/Fíli

“Bofur, are you almost ready to go?”  
  
“Just about!” Bofur called back. “My bloody tie is fighting back!”  
  
Wide end right. Small end left. Up and down and back and- Catastrophe.  
  
Bofur frowned at his reflection, and his reflection, naturally, frowned back.  
  
“Come down here and I’ll do it for you.”  
  
“I can manage!”  
  
Fíli didn’t argue with him, but it seemed to Bofur that the air in their house suddenly took on a somewhat disbelieving note.

Another failed attempt proved Fíli and the house right.  
  
Bofur poked at his tie, but it refused to do anything else except to hang limply around his neck. “Fine, I’m coming,” he sighed, not expecting Fíli to hear him.  
  
“Too late,” Fíli replied, and Bofur snorted and turned to his fiancé. His mouth was open to give a retort, but it got stuck somewhere around his tonsils. And he had to swallow twice before finding enough moisture to actually produce something that would be recognized as speech.

“It just occurred to me that I’ve never seen you in this uniform before,” Bofur said, and even to his own ears his voice sounded very husky.  
  
When Fíli had brought the ceremonial uniform home it’d been inside a garment bag, and there it had stayed. Until now. It was a damned shame that there were not a need for more ceremonies.  
  
Fíli glanced down at himself. “Does it look silly? The belt is a little bit much, I know.”  
  
Bofur looked at the broad black belt doing an excellent job of pointing out how narrow Fíli’s waist and hips were compared to his shoulders. Shoulders that appeared even broader than normal thanks to some inherent magic of the uniform. Or did it have shoulder pads?  
  
“Silly is not the word I would use.”  
  
“Spare me the actual one,” Fíli said, smiling at him. “Come on, give me your tie, we’ll be late.”  
  
As Fíli got close enough, Bofur stroked his hand over his left shoulder. No pads. Clearly magic then.  
  
-  
  
If there was such a thing as karma, Bofur was sure he’d collected so much of it that his next life would be amazing. He’d managed to go through the entire evening without jumping Fíli, and it hadn’t been easy.  
  
The blue fabric of the uniform made Fíli’s eyes seem bluer and made his hair more ridiculously golden than normal. The trousers made his arse look _fantastic_. And even the way he carried himself was slightly different.  
  
The door hadn’t more than closed behind them before Bofur was pressing Fíli against it, his hands combing through short blond locks that had stayed neat and pristine during the dinner, and dancing, but they would not be able to withstand Bofur now.  
  
Fíli made a small surprised noise, but it was quickly silenced by Bofur’s mouth on his.

A little while later Bofur pulled back to inspect his work thus far.

“What’s got you so revved up?” Fíli panted, cheeks flushed, lips a deep pink and slightly puffy, and his hair a wonderful mess. Uniform still immaculate. It hadn’t even gotten a wrinkle. “Not that I’m complaining,” Fíli added faintly as Bofur dropped to his knees, scrambling to open the fly on Fíli’s trousers.  
  
“When we get married you’re wearing this uniform,” Bofur said, glancing up at him.  
  
Fíli nodded slowly. “Sure?”  
  
“Brilliant,” Bofur agreed, licking his lips before he swallowed Fíli down to the root.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fíli strikes me as most likely member of the Company to join some sort of military branch in a modern AU. *nods*


	12. Day 12 - Making love - Dwalin/Nori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know how that prompt lead to this story.

More than a few people thought that Dwalin was stupid. They saw the muscles and the tattoos, heard the growly voice and how he often spoke in short, direct sentences instead of something long and flowery. They realised that he couldn’t quote Proust or Dostoyevsky, and added it all up to: not very smart, not worth interacting with.  
  
Their fucking _loss_ , was Nori’s opinion on the whole thing.

Besides, sometimes there were advantages to be seen as something less than what you were.

Easier to knock people down a notch or two that way.  
  
But that was not the point. The point was that Dwalin wasn’t actually stupid. Most of the time.

And to be entirely honest, Nori _loved_ the times when Dwalin’s IQ dropped to just slightly more clever than your average sponge, and he was also more than happy to take the blame for those occasions.  
  
-

It was all very cliché. When Dwalin was sufficiently aroused there seemed not to be enough blood available to keep both his brain and cock fully operational. Something had to give.  
  
If Nori had been a (much) more immoral person than he was, he could have found all sorts of uses for this. He hadn’t tried it of course, but he rather thought that there was nothing that Dwalin wouldn’t agree to when his cock made the decisions for him. No secret would be safe. If you asked him something complicated he looked like a confused puppy as he tried to muddle through it, and it was possible to track each and every thought as it flickered by behind his eyes. Lying was impossible.

To put it like that, it didn’t sound very enticing. It even sounded a tad pathetic. But the truth of it was that there was just something incredibly sweet about the way Dwalin got when he turned, as Nori called it, sex-stupid. There was something primal about it, even though 'primal' was usually associated with something more violent. Nothing could be further from the truth.  
  
Dwalin was most definitely a passionate lover, and Nori greatly enjoyed the times when they didn’t even make it to the bedroom due to being just a little too eager to have each other. But that part didn’t quite make the transition to Dwalin being sex-stupid.

Eager, Nori would still describe him as, but also less demanding.

Desperate… perhaps not, because there was nothing frantic about him.

Incredibly sweet.

Very eager to please.

Earnest, and frighteningly sincere.  
  
Nori had actually gotten a little scared the first time it happened and Dwalin had showered him with murmured, almost unintelligible compliments while he’d touched him like Nori was the most precious thing to exist on earth. And he’d accepted any touch Nori had given him in return as if it was a great gift.

It had been overwhelming, and at the time Nori had been wary that Dwalin hadn’t actually meant the things he’d been saying, that he’d been playing. Mocking him.   
  
But he hadn’t been, and Nori soon learned to love the occasions when Dwalin’s entire universe shrunk down to encompass only the two of them on the most basic of levels.

-  
  
As Nori sank down on Dwalin’s cock, Dwalin looked up at him with glassy eyes filled with adoration. Panting breaths escaped his mouth, which hung open just enough to give a person ideas of how to fill it. However that would need to wait for some other time.

Nori’s own cock was hard and abundantly leaking pre-come which dripped down to pool on Dwalin’s stomach, but he was more than content to have Dwalin’s thick length nudging up against that perfect spot inside of him, and almost more eager to watch the last traces of reason leave Dwalin’s eyes as the pleasure Nori could give him took over.  
  
If there was something more beautiful than Dwalin mid-orgasm Nori had yet to find it.  
  
Dwalin’s thumbs rubbed slow circles over Nori’s hipbones, the touch slow and sweet, as if he was moving through molasses.  
  
“Do you love me?” Nori asked as leaned forward to brace his hands on Dwalin’s chest, fingers combing through the dark tufts of hair that were generously sprinkled over the solid muscle.  
  
“Yes, of course” Dwalin promised, eyes dreamy, cloudy and so so sweet.  
  
“Thank you,” Nori murmured, stretching to steal a kiss freely given.

 


	13. Day 13 - Knife play - Fíli/Dáin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly dark!Fíli, *holds up hand with thumb and index finger slightly apart*  
> Just slightly. Like, barely even there.
> 
> lol, and I'm afraid the smut went on a vacation in this one.  
> Which is ironic as I'm back from my own vacation from Ireland now. (I enjoyed it a lot!)
> 
> future!fic

The knife was sharp. The edge honed to lethal perfection.

Fíli hummed with satisfaction as Dáin’s shirt parted without a fight. He ran two fingers over the tanned skin, still holding the knife. There were scars, but they were all old. They'd gone white and silver with age.

From his knife: not a mark. Not yet.

“Please,” Dáin murmured, his voice not quite having its usual power. Ironfoot and Silvertongue, two names that fit him well, even if only one had physical proof.  
  
“Please what?” Fíli asked, continuing to cut Dáin’s shirt away, baring his sturdy, barrel-like chest.  
  
“Please, my King.”  
  
That wasn’t actually what Fíli had meant, but it was satisfying nevertheless.  
  
“What do you want?” Fíli asked, as he brushed away small bits of cut-up laces. He held the blade against Dáin’s skin.

Heavy muscles jumped and quivered, and Dáin’s breaths had begun to sound laboured. Because of his touch or the cool kiss from the steel? Did it matter?

“I want you.” Dáin arched his back, pushing up against the edge of the blade.

A thin red line appeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, I don't know... I guess this happened in a verse where both Thorin and Kíli died. Maybe Dís dies on the way to Erebor...  
> That would be my headcanon for it.  
> /o\ Maybe other people died too.  
> And Fíli and Dáin grow closer. But there's still people who think that Fíli is too young to make a good King, and there are assassination attempts, and he never goes anywhere without his knives, and one evening as he's taking them off in his chambers he sees Dáin watching him intently. And that's the start.


	14. Day 14 - Pregnancy - Tauriel/Fíli/Kíli

During her pregnancy Tauriel much more often than usual found herself in a mood to find either or both of her Dwarfs and drag them to the nearest bed or reasonably flat surface. Horizontal or not. 

And instead of complaining they happily and eagerly allowed her to steal them away from whatever activity they’d been involved in, and not only that, but they sought her out in turn if she didn’t steal them away often enough for their taste.  
  
It was a rough estimate, but she rather thought that they coupled almost twice as much as before she’d realised she was carrying a child. _Their_ child. Because even if the sire might only be one of them, their child would certainly have two fathers.

At first Tauriel assumed the increase in frequency, at least the part initiated by Fíli and Kíli, was because her body was changing into something her lovers were more used to.  
  
Her breasts were bigger - and her stomach too, of course - but it seemed as if her body had decided to become a little bigger, a little rounder, on the whole, and she’d been in need of both new clothes and new boots when her normal ones had seemed too constraining all of a sudden.  
  
But when she mentioned this theory, Fíli just started snickering and explained that not even a blind person would be able to mistake her for a Dwarf, regardless of the state of her belly.  
  
“It’s not that you don’t look gorgeous,” he continued, smiling up at her. “Because you do. Only it’s not because you now have larger breasts. But-“ He stopped looking a little sly.

“But?” Tauriel asked.

“I could show you?” Fíli offered, slyness being replaced by innocence. “Kíli would want to take part, so I could go find him if you’ll go to our chambers?”  
  
Tauriel snorted and buried her hand in golden locks, curling her fingers around a thick braid. She leaned down as Fíli rose up on his toes, and when the kiss had ended Tauriel felt a familiar heat low in her belly. Just from a small kiss. Strange, but not unwelcome.   
  
Fíli looked just as affected; blue eyes dark and heavy lidded.   
  
“I’ll meet you there,” Tauriel promised and moved her hand from Fíli’s hair before she would ignore propriety completely and have him up against the wall. Their difference in heights was of no importance as he was more than strong enough to hold her up, but... no.

She was greedy, not stupid, and if waiting a little would earn her Kíli as well... then she would wait.   
  
-  
  
As her Dwarfs walked into the bedroom, Tauriel took a moment to preen over the flabbergasted look she received as they realised that she had already disrobed and was waiting for them naked on the bed.  
  
The changes in her body were not unwelcome as she knew they were necessary for the life growing inside of her, but it was sometimes jarring that something so familiar to her was turning into something beyond her control.

A reminder that her lovers still found her desirable… it was perhaps vain of her to wish for one, but to have it still made a small worry inside her mind quiet down.  
  
The speed at which Kíli disrobed and joined her on the bed did much the same.  
  
Normally he would straddle her, but as that would mean sitting on her belly, he instead opted to kneel next to her.  
  
“I hear we’re doing a show and tell,” he grinned, leaning in for a kiss.  
  
“Mmm,” Tauriel said, fitting her hand to the back of his neck. “It can wait.”  
  
“It can-” Fíli joined them on the bed as well, on her other side. “But I don’t see why it should.”

Tauriel let her gaze sweep down over his naked body, then his brother's, and raised an eyebrow. “Really? You can't?”  
  
“The explanation will be rather enjoyable,” Fíli said, cupping her right breast and rubbed his thumb over her nipple.  
  
“Careful!” Kíli complained when her hand tightened in his hair to the point of pain.

Blinking a little dazedly, pleasure still echoing throughout her body, Tauriel opened her mouth to apologise, but Kíli had already leaned over to smack Fíli on the shoulder.  
  
“What did you _think_ would happen if you did that?”  
  
“Did she pull on your poor little hair?” Fíli asked, voice full of exaggerated sympathy. “How painful. Will you be able to-“  
  
“It is about my breasts after all then?” Tauriel asked to interrupt the potential quarrel.

When already naked in bed the quarrels usually had a very happy ending, but they also delayed said happy ending.  
  
One blond and one dark head turned towards her.  
  
“It’s not-not about your breasts?” Kíli offered.  
  
“But it’s not because they’re bigger,” Fíli explained.  
  
“Not that we mind.”  
  
“As long as they’re yours they’re lovely.”  
  
“But it’s more-“ Kíli nodded to Fíli who very gently brushed the pad of his thumb over her pebbled nipple once more.  
  
Tauriel shuddered and arched up into the touch.  
  
“You weren’t that sensitive before-“ Kíli’s gaze slid down to rest on her stomach.  
  
“Before you were carrying our child,” Fíli concluded, sliding his hand from her breast and down to rest on the roundness of her belly. Kíli’s hand joined him not long after. 

“I hadn’t realised,” Tauriel said slowly.  
  
“We had,” Kíli said with no small amount of smugness. “We pay _attention_.”  
  
Fíli winced.  
  
“Ponies,” was all Tauriel said in response to that.  
  
“It’s not fair to bring up events that you were not even present for,” Kíli objected.  
  
“Who said I was supposed to be fair?” Tauriel asked, cupping Kíli’s neck again and reeling him in for new kisses.  
  
“Indeed,” Fíli remarked. “Now my brother has gotten two kisses, and I am bereft.”  
  
She couldn’t see what Kíli was doing, but she heard his fingers brush against each other as he signed something to Fíli. It was likely something rude, judging by Fíli’s huff.

“That’s not the point.”

Tauriel made a protesting sound as Kíli pulled away from her to lean over and capture his brother’s mouth instead. But the lovely image they presented was enough to make her bite back any further protests.

Thinking about what she had just learnt, Tauriel lifter her hands to her breasts, taking note of how they filled her hands more than they usually did. Then, experimentally, she gave a small pinch to the bud of her right nipple.  
  
A bolt of pleasure raced down her spine, so she did it again, and then repeated the action on her left nipple.  
  
“Oh,” Fíli said, and Tauriel looked back up.  
  
“Don’t mind us,” Kíli said, a little breathlessly, tongue flicking out to wet lips that were just beginning to look a little puffy.

“Indeed,” Fíli agreed, and Kíli must have been on a mission to mess up his hair, because the blond locks and braids were in gorgeous disarray. Kíli’s as well, but as that was usually the case. Both of them were hard; cocks rosy and standing proudly at attention.   
  
“We don’t mind just watching.”  
  
“ _I_ mind you just watching,” Tauriel said, pulling them both down to lie next to her.


	15. Day 15 - Scissoring - Nori/Bilbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU  
> FemNori, FemBilbo

“Did you know this is also called tribbing?”

“T-tripping?”

“No, tri _bb_ ing.”

“Tribbles?”

Nori snorted. “I get the feeling you're not listening.”

“I'm, _ah_ , a little- busy.”  
  
Bilbo hissed as Nori rubbed against her in an absolutely divine angle. She tightened the leg she had thrown over Nori’s thigh and arched her back, trying to get closer.  
  
This would be a terribly inconvenient position to be permanently stuck to her girlfriend in, but at the moment Bilbo might have said yes to such a proposition. At least if that meant that Nori would keep grinding against her like she was; each slow thrust sending shivers down Bilbo's spine. And judging by the flush on Nori's cheeks she was enjoying it too, even if she didn't seem nearly as distracted as Bilbo.  
  
“Speaking about tribbles, Captain Kirk is rather cute. Would have been cuter as a girl, but-“  
  
“Dear lord,” Bilbo breathed, “How can you still be talking?”  
  
“You’re talking too.”  
  
Bilbo shook her head, curls bouncing. “Nope.”  
  
“You liar,” Nori grinned. “I approve. Back to the topic of James Kirk.”  
  
Bilbo groaned, and let it be open to interpretation if it was the good or the bad kind.  
  
“Fluffy blond-ish hair, hazel eyes, adorable smile- see where I’m going with this?”  
  
“You’re- it’s not polite to talk about crushes when you’re sleeping with someone already.” Bilbo fisted her hands in the sheet. “And you’re _not_ allowed to stop sleeping with me. Not for a bit longer at least or I'll be terribly cross.”  
  
Giggling, Nori managed to wriggle a little closer before sitting up. She smirked down at Bilbo who was still lying down on her back, and let her hands wander down Bilbo’s round stomach to tease in between her spread legs, between where they were pressed up against each other.  
  
“You’d make a really cute Kirk, that’s what I’m saying.”  
  
“Oh,” Bilbo said, shuddering as Nori began to rub slow circles over and around her clit. “Oh.”


	16. Day 16 - Student/teacher - Dwalin/Óin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yes, I have developed a huge kink for youngish!Dwalin with older!Óin. :D)
> 
> ((But for some reason this is more backstory than smut *sighs* BUT there is smut at the end, promise))

It was a rather big gamble, but Dwalin didn't regret what he'd written at the end of his final applied physiology essay. Time would tell if he would.  
  
Three days had gone by since he handed it in, and now he was waiting outside a café a fair distance away from the University. Just like he’d been every day at five pm. It was away from Uni since he’d wanted to limit the risk of running into someone he knew, because he really didn't feel like talking to someone. Just in case-  
  
Just in case.

If Dwalin had been the kind of person who bit his nails he’d not have had any left when Óin finally showed up. As it were he’d probably scared a lot of business away from the café over the last few days by walking back and forth outside it, anxiously peering down the road. Because on Dwalin 'anxious' had a way of looking like 'seriously pissed off'.  
  
No one had told him to stop though. Perhaps they’d not dared. But at least no one had called the cops on him.  
  
When he finally saw a familiar head of shaggy black hair between the other people milling about (didn’t they bloody well have a home to go to instead of being out in public, obscuring his line of sight?) Dwalin’s heart did something that wasn’t quite a somersault but definitely wasn’t a normal beat either.  
  
"If it's a prank you'll regret it,” was the first thing Óin said to him, and even though his tone wasn’t friendly in the least it made something inside Dwalin relax. It would have been horrible if Óin had tried to be _kind_ to him. And besides, if Óin didn’t want it to be a prank… That must mean...

"S’not a prank,” Dwalin promised, and Óin gave him a dubious look that Dwalin tried not to be offended by.

"I'm not giving you a higher grade than you deserve."  
  
"I didn't expect you to," Dwalin said.

"You're not graduating until-"  
  
"I'm over legal age,” Dwalin interrupted. “I won't have you as a teacher ever again, unless I take more courses in applied physiology, and unless I change my degree I won’t. So I don't see how you could get involved with my continued education. Which means that as two consenting adults there are no laws or rules forbidding us to see each other."

Óin’s mouth twitched. "Did you practice that one?"  
  
A flush of heat flared on Dwalin’s cheeks. “No?” he tried.  
  
Thankfully Óin had mercy on him, and didn’t press. “I was promised coffee,” he said, putting his hands in his pocket and rocking back on his heels as he looked up at Dwalin. He didn’t have to look very far, because if you didn’t count Dwalin’s mohawk they were almost of the same height. It just didn't seem that way at first glance since Dwalin was half again as broad. “I have no coffee.”  
  
“If you’d been on time you’d have coffee by now,” Dwalin said.  
  
He’d not known when Óin would actually read the essay, so he wasn’t holding it against him that he’d only showed up on the third day, but he’d written five pm on it, and now it was almost half past. (Then again, Dwalin was so relieved that he had showed up at all.)  
  
“Thanks to that comment I’m buying something hideously expensive, Fundinson. And by the way, even though I’ve already graded your essay, I’m not touching you until after your final grade has been set.”

Dwalin, who had been in the process of turning and beginning to head for the door of the café, tripped over his own feet, almost falling on his arse.  
  
“But I can buy you coffee now? Right?”  
  
“Hideously expensive coffee,” Óin corrected and gave him a small smile.

Dwalin could not have stopped himself from grinning even if he'd wanted to.  
  
-  
  
When the lists of mid-term grades showed up on the notice boards Dwalin was amongst the other students fighting for a spot to see how they’d faired.  
  
Ignoring cheers and sighs he stretched his neck to look over the people in front of him.  
  
Where the hell was his course? There! Applied physiology. Dwalin’s eyes flicked over the names. Ferny, Fírielson, _Fundinson_.  
  
“Good grade?” someone asked after Dwalin had made a loud whoop of relief.  
  
And Dwalin wasn’t even sure. He’d just seen that he indeed had a grade. That there was a letter after his name. That was good enough

  
-

“Oh _fuck_.”  
  
“Good?”  
  
Dwalin’s fingers tightened on Óin’s arms. “Fuck yes, don’t stop.”  
  
In reply Dwalin got a soft hum, and Óin rocked his hips, his cock sinking in a few inches more.  
  
Óin was surprisingly quiet in bed. Or maybe that was just because Dwalin’s first impression of Óin had been listening to him talk non-stop for two hours during a lecture. And he talked a fair bit outside the classroom too. But not so in bed.  
  
It made Dwalin wonder what would make him _loud_. That would hopefully be something he would find out.

-

Dwalin wrapped his arm around Óin’s neck, digging his fingers in sweat-damp hair and tugged him down, close enough that he could kiss him; no finesse, no grace, just panting breaths and slick slides of their tongues.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Dwalin groaned and arched his neck, pressing his head into the pillows. “Fuck, I’m, I’m gonna-“  
  
“Dwalin,” Óin breathed, pressing kisses to Dwalin’s throat. “Yes.”  
  
Óin thrust once, twice, and then there was nothing but white light and white noise inside Dwalin’s head.

  
An immeasurable time later Dwalin managed to drag his eyes open, and he’d be a little embarrassed about how he’d basically stopped caring about Óin’s pleasure as soon as he got his own, but the slightly unfocused, content look in Óin’s eyes stopped the apology before it could even form on his tongue.  
  
“Can I stop buying you ridiculous coffee now?” Dwalin murmured. “Who the hell drinks that shit anyway.”  
  
“Says he who always end up stealing my cup.” Óin ran his hand down Dwalin’s chest, rubbing slow circles over his stomach.  
  
“Not stealing since I paid for it,” Dwalin argued. “Seriously though, can we actually see each other in places that are not coffee shops now?”  
  
“Won’t you miss the cookies?” Óin snorted. “Ach, fine. Dinner tonight?”  
  
Dwalin placed his hand over Óin’s and slid it further down. “Breakfast tomorrow?”  
  
Now that he finally had Óin in his bed, he was bloody well going to take advantage of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Óin's very good at applied physiology *wink wink nudge nudge*
> 
> Because I don't care if it's not really related to what applied physiology really is, it totally sounds like something that would make you good in bed.
> 
> And a small headcanon, Óin is the customer who makes the most complicated coffee orders possible. But they taste great.  
> And he always knows if the barista forgot something and will call them out on it unless they seem super stressed. Then he'll tip them and grumble about too large corporations to Dwalin regardless of if they've been to a Starbucks type place or not.


	17. Day 17 - Glory hole - Kíli/Unknown

It takes a few seconds for Kíli to remember what the knock on the other side of the wall means.  
  
Instead of pulling away he leans closer,left hand pressed up against the wall, his right wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, not wanting to come yet.

Not when he knows there are more people waiting.  
  
He can hear some of them talk between themselves, a soft murmur. Occasionally a word or two slips into his ears, making its way through the groans, moans and gasps of the guy he’s sucking.  
  
“Can’t wait-“  
  
“Talented-“  
  
“-hurry _up_ -“  
  
Kíli does pull back a little as he feels the first spurt, catching the second one on his tongue, and the third one too. There’s no fourth, and he tries to not be disappointed by that. There’ll be others.

He leans back and swallows, licking his lips as looks at the still hard cock sticking through the round hole in the wall. It wobbles a little in the air for a moment or two before it disappears back from where it’d come.  
  
Kíli’s mouth twitches and he snorts licks his lips. _Come_ , indeed.  
  
Perhaps a minute goes by, or maybe even a shorter period of time but Kíli still shifts impatiently. Then comes shuffling and rustling noises from behind the wall, and soon enough a cock begins to slide through the hole.

Kíli’s eyes goes big with surprise as this goes on for quite a bit longer than he’d expected.  
  
“Too much to handle?” a deep voice ask, gruff but not unfriendly.  
  
Forgetting that no one can see him Kíli shakes his head and wraps both his hands around the thick length, just feeling the hot heavy weight of it for a moment.

It’s flushed a dark pink and not only long but thick as well. Kíli can already feel the ache in his jaws and his dick gives an interested twitch.  
  
If he comes sucking this one… well, there are worse problems to have.  
  
Gently pulling the foreskin away from the glans Kíli laps at the bead of liquid gleaming like a small pearl. It’s got a sweetness too it, the taste filling his mouth instantly, and he wraps his mouth around the head, tongue licking and trying to coax out more as his hands stroking the rest of the cock, almost petting it.  
  
He can tell the guy is getting a little restless, shifting his weight from leg to leg, and with only a small sigh of regret Kíli open his mouth and takes as many inches as he can down his throat.  
  
It was not expected, judging by the sharply indrawn breath and if Kíli could have he would have been grinning. As it is, he has to settle for just a general air of smugness. Swallowing prompts a dark, rumbling groan and Kíli shivers.  
  
He doesn’t remember seeing this one before, but he damn well hopes he’ll be back again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any ideas of who the two other peeps are? Or who is waiting in line?


	18. Day 18 - High Heels - Dwalin/Dís

“I’ll never understand how you can walk in those,” Dwalin remarked as they made their way down the big staircase.  
  
“One foot before the other like most everyone else,” Dís replied and shot him a teasing smile over her shoulder. “If you really want to know, we need to go shopping for a pair of heels for you.”  
  
“And I take a step, and they break.”  
  
“I’m sure there are shoes built to handle someone like you.”  
  
There’d been a carpet on the stairs, and Dís grinned as they started walking towards the dining hall, now accompanied by the distinct sharp clicks of her stilettos. Maybe she should get someone to remove the carpet. The sound was half the pleasure of wearing heels.

Dwalin was walking behind her, arguable to keep an eye on her, and one eye on any possible trouble, but Dís was also very sure that her arse was currently receiving more than its share of glances. And hopefully more than glances once they got this boring dinner out of the way.  
  
“I won’t be able to run in them,” Dwalin remarked.  
  
“I think you might be protesting a bit too much.”  
  
Dwalin snorted. “If you say so, princess.”  
  
“I’ll never understand why you still find that nickname amusing,” Dís sighed.  
  
“I offered to upgrade you to queen, but you didn’t much like it.”  
  
“I’ve never much liked ‘princess’ either.”  
  
“I can’t always cater to your whims, can I.”  
  
“I don’t see why not,” Dís said and halted just outside the door that would take them to the dining hall, which; judging by the muted sound of many voices talking at once, was already full of people waiting for her. It would be interesting to see if her brothers had decided to show up after all. “Give me your arm to hold as we make a suitably dramatic entrance.”

“I’m your bodyguard, not a date,” Dwalin argued even as he allowed her to wrap her arm around his, her hand resting at the heavy muscle of his forearm which was currently covered in a darling chalk-grey Canali jacket.

Bespoke, course.

Tuxedos should never be bought off the rack anyway, but with Dwalin’s build; in particular his chest, it wasn’t like off the rack was an option in the first place. Not if he wanted to be able to button it.  
  
Which... unbuttoned wasn't a half-bad look for him, but not terribly professional.  
  
“With any luck you’ll have me naked in bed in a few hours," Dís said, her voice husky. "I think you can be my date at least for a little bit.”  
  
With her heels on they were almost of an height, and she was tempted to just lean in and steal a kiss. Both for the sake of the kiss and to leave a strategic smear of lipstick on Dwalin to remind others that touching would not be wise.

She couldn’t blame them for looking, but if they’d forget to behave… they’d certainly find out just how sharp her heels really were. But if Dwalin realised what she’d done he’d be cross with her, and not in a good way.   
  
“Wish me luck?” Dís asked instead, brushing the pads of her fingers over Dwalin’s lips and then down through his beard, coming to a stop on his chest.  
  
“As if you need it,” he scoffed, covering her hand with his.  
  
-  
  
“Never wear this dress again,” Dwalin growled as the zipper down the back fought him tooth and nail. Considering that it didn’t have either of those things it was fairly impressive, and under other circumstances he might have been impressed, but not as such at the moment.  
  
“You liked zipping me up in it just fine.” Dís gave a throaty chuckle. “I think you’re just being contrary.”  
  
 _Victory_ , Dwalin did not say, but definitely thought as the zipper finally gave way and the dress fell to the floor as there’d been no straps to hold it up.  
  
Dressed only in her underwear; bra, knickers and stockings, and her heels, Dís turned around and twined her arms around Dwalin’s neck.  
  
As he lifted her up she made a sound between a laugh and a shriek and Dwalin groaned as she wrapped her legs tight around him, heels digging into his lower back for just a moment before she shifted.

Walking over the bed and tossing Dís down on it was quick work, unlike getting her out of a certain dress. Fine, it’d made her look gorgeous, but what didn’t. She looked just as gorgeous now, and she’d look just as gorgeous after they’d made love, if not more.  
  
“The dress is a damned security risk,” Dwalin muttered as he began to undress.  
  
“Please explain why,” Dís said, amusement shining brightly in her eyes even though she tried to keep a serious expression.  
  
“If it caught on fire you wouldn’t get out of it quick enough.”  
  
“If I ask if there’s a high risk for that to happen, will it lead to a bad pun about my attractiveness?”  
  
Dwalin gave her a dirty look as he began to unbuckle his belt. “Not a _bad_ one.”  
  
-  
  
“It’s entirely meaningless, oh, to wear, oh _fuck_ , high heels in bed.”  
  
“Agree to disagree,” Dwalin said before continuing to worship Dís’ breasts. He alternated between slow sucking kisses, quick flicks of the tongue, and the occasional nibble to keep things interesting. Oh, and brushing his beard over the sensitive skin was also a sure way to make his princess squirm.  
  
“You’re not- oh bloody hell do whatever that was again.”  
  
Dwalin didn’t ever bother to try and hide his grin and let Dís pull him even closer against herself.  
  
-  
  
Dís _knew_ she was right regarding heels in bed.  
  
Heels were designed to make you look more attractive when standing up. They made your legs look longer, made your legs look _better_ , made you arch your back and stick our your arse, and of course, gave your hips a bit of extra swing as you walked. None of these things applied when you were in bed, but Dwalin didn’t seem to care, and Dís couldn’t argue with the results.  
  
When she accidentally graced the back of his leg with one of the heels Dwalin hissed and pulled back from the kiss, and Dís was almost about to apologise when she saw the look in his eyes.  
  
The next time wasn’t an accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe, I kinda think Dís is in charge of some mafia-like organisation in this one. idk, but how cool wouldn't that be!


	19. Day 19 - Car sex - Ori/Bifur

Car sex is what happens when you live with two overprotective brothers and your boyfriend lives with two overly curious cousins with no common sense or awareness of the word privacy between them.

It starts out as a stray thought and becomes a necessity when no one can mind their own business or learn to knock before walking into a room.

-

The backseat is cramped. And Ori considers it lucky that he’s not a very tall or wide, because then things would really be uncomfortable. As it is there’s still hardly enough room for both of them.  
  
However that's not important when Bifur is heavy and wonderful on top of him, pressing him down into the seat, one bare thigh pressed between Ori’s, and Ori can’t stop his hips from constantly making small rocking motions.   
  
Logically, Ori knows that the car can’t be air tight, but it still feels like there’s a lack of oxygen inside of it. His head is swimming as he wraps both arms around Bifur’s back and clings. Trying to get his legs around him as well fails, instead Ori only manages to knock his left knee against the back of the front seats.  
  
They shagged on the hood of the car once. And while that had been roomier Ori had been half-scared to death that someone would see them while at the same time not caring at all about anything other than the way Bifur made him feel.

It had been both the slick drag of his cock inside, the greedy way he touched him, and the soft look in his boyfriend's eyes.

It had made Ori feel like he was incredibly precious and incredibly wanted. Like the world’s sexiest diamond. (Even if that metaphor left a few things to be desired.)

Tugging on Bifur’s hair to get him to lift his head up from where he’s sucking marks into the skin on his neck, Ori proceeds to steal a few long kisses before pulling back to look him in the eyes.    
  
“I love you,” he says, watching Bifur’s attention drop down to his lips, and the way Bifur’s face lights up in a smile makes Ori grin in return.


	20. Day 20 - (Under the) Desk - Bard/Nori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have found another pairing that I like more than I thought I would!

Nori figured it was lucky that Bard’s first instinct when someone suddenly palmed his crotch was to shriek like a banshee instead of kicking.  
  
“Nori, what the fuck are you doing underneath my desk?” Bard hissed, peering down at his hysterically giggling lover.   
  
Nori; kneeling beneath the desk, pressed himself against the side of it to avoid falling to the floor as he shook from laughing so much.  
  
“I’ve- I’ve _told_ you,” Nori snickered. “Your desk is ridiculously large. You could fit three people under here. You didn’t even know I was here before-“  
  
“Before you shortened my life expectancy with five years.” Bard ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus fuck, Nori. I’m in my forties. Remember that before you try and give me a heart attack.”  
  
“Forty is the new thirty and thirty is the new twenty,” Nori grinned. “And you’re much too fit to get a heart attack in your twenties.”

Bard’s mouth twitched against his better judgement. “C’mon, get up from the floor before someone sees you. That no one appeared to have heard me is a bloody miracle.”  
  
“Or they're used to the screaming around the office?" Nori shifted slightly. "I'm not getting up. That’s the beauty of it. You have to walk all the way around the desk to see me. And apparently not even then.”  
  
“The beaut- Nori?”  
  
The innocent look Nori gave him was much too innocent by half. The hand sneaking up to press against Bard's suddenly interested cock was not.  
  
-  
  
Nori paused as someone knocked on the door, but Bard didn’t have time to say anything before it opened.  
  
“Sorry to interrupt, but-“ Bofur blinked. “Huh, I thought Nori was here?”  
  
If he could have, Nori would have been grinning quite evilly as he continued to suck Bard’s cock, making sure to pay extra attention to the sensitive place just below the head. Just managing to stop himself from humming happily he flicked his tongue against the thick vein running along the underside.  
  
“He. Left,” Bard gritted out. “Coffee.”  
  
Nori was prepared for the hand that slid into his hair, and he refused to allow it to push him back, counting on how Bard wouldn’t be prepared to actually hurt him to make him stop.  
  
“Must have missed him then, but-“  
  
And indeed, Bard didn’t continue to tug on his hair. In fact, Nori was surprised when Bard’s thigh moved, making more room for him and-  
  
Oh.  
  
As the tip of Bard’s shoe found Nori’s crotch the redhead had to admit that he’d not been considering that particular strategy.  
  
The foot pressed down, firmly and with a distinct air of being a warning.

It wasn’t painful as such, but definitely not comfortable either considering that Nori's own cock had already been protesting about still being kept prisoner inside his jeans.  
  
Giving a last, somewhat spiteful flick of his tongue, Nori backed off, but he kept his hands braced on Bard’s still trouser-covered thighs. If he rubbed himself at Bard’s shoe, would that be weird or…  
  
“- just some paperwork for you to sign.”  
  
“Fine,” Bard said shortly, and Nori took a bit of pride in the fact that his voice was a bit rougher than usual. He petted the strong muscles of Bard’s thighs, pinching in retaliation when the shoe pressed down harder.  
  
“Did you have a fight?” Bofur asked, full of concern as he walked up to the desk.  
  
Bard snorted. “Not as such.”  
  
“My parents always called fights discussions,” Bofur mused. “Even when they ended with plates being thrown. I didn’t think either of you were the plate throwing kind.”  
  
“There’re no plates in my office,” Bard pointed out.  
  
“Eh, you know what I mean,” Bofur said, and Nori imagined that the rustling of cloth meant that he’d just shrugged.

Some rustling paper and scratchy smooth noises of a few signatures later Bofur left with a suggestion for Bard to buy some flowers, chocolate or dinner, or something else Nori liked to make up for whatever he’d done.  
  
“Why does he think _I_ ’ve done something,” Bard grumbled as the door closed. "Like it's always my fault when we fight."  
  
“What I’d like to know is why he hit on all the clichés except for jewellery,” Nori sighed as he curled his fingers around Bard's still very enthusiastic dick. “I like jewellery.”  
  
“I’m not actually planning on apologising for anything,” Bard pointed out.  
  
“For good behaviour then?” Nori suggested, blowing cool air on the tip of the rosy-red cock begging for his attention. Pushing the chair back a little he kept his eyes locked with Bard's and pressed his lips to the glans in an exaggerated kiss.  
  
"You, ah, never- almost never, wear the things I've bought you anyway." Bard sucked in a sharp breath of air as his cock suddenly ended up mostly in Nori's throat. "Instead I find you cooing over my cufflinks, oh bloody _fuck_." His hands tightened on the armrests of his chair as Nori swallowed. _"Nori."_  
  
Looking as smug as the proverbial cat, Nori pulled off and licked his lips. "Do you want a blowjob or a conversation?"  
  
"I like both in my relationships," Bard managed, voice sounding as if he'd smoked two packs and followed it up with a bottle of whiskey.  
  
"Can't suck you and talk at the same time." Nori shrugged. "Pick one." He didn't actually let Bard reply though, instead bending his head and licking a wet stripe up his cock.  
  
"Marry me?" Bard croaked out, his hand twitching in Nori's hair.  
  
"What the actual fuck?" Nori breathed as he pulled back, smugness entirely wiped out by surprise. "What did you say?"  
  
"You like jewellery."  
  
"That's not what you said." Nori looked between Bard's eyes and his cock. "Is this a heat of the moment thing?"  
  
"I- maybe," Bard admitted and Nori told himself that he wasn't disappointed. "I'd not really planned on asking like this."  
  
"Like... this?"  
  
Bard reached down and cupped Nori's face, big thumb brushing gently over a freckled cheek.  
  
"I was thinking that you might like one of those rings where there's diamonds all the way around the band."  
  
"Are you actually serious?" Nori asked, staring up at his lover. "I'm kneeling beneath your desk, hand wrapped around your cock, and you propose?"  
  
"Did you want roses and champagne?" Bard frowned when Nori released his cock and pushed at the chair to roll him away from the desk. "Nori? I'm so-"  
  
"Fuck no," Nori breathed. "No roses. But now you're bloody well going to have to lock the damned door and fuck me over the desk."  
  
"Is that- you're saying yes?" Bard asked.  
  
"Of course I am you bloody moron. Now make me _scream_ it."


	21. Day 21 - In the club - Gimli/Legolas

"I'm Legolas!"

"Gimli!"

A mostly shouted conversation; a necessity to be heard over the loud, pounding music, has revealed that they like mostly the same music and films, even if Gimli was somewhat appalled to learn about Legolas love for Coldplay and Legolas thought that Gimli was joking when he said that he’d really loved the Transformer movies.  
  
They’ve even got more in common than they know; like loving and overbearing fathers, but a more relevant detail is how they are both 18, in the same nightclub, and how neither of them can quite believe that someone so incredibly fucking attractive could be interested in them.

But... It really doesn't seem like a joke.   
  
Neither one of them had ever thought they’d ever hide away in a dark corner of a club; too desperate to touch and taste to be able to go to a more suitable location.  
  
Legolas’ head is swimming for entirely different reasons than the glass of wine he had earlier. Licking his lips he spreads his legs a little, or tries anyway – he is still wearing his trousers and unbuttoned as they are they're still getting in the way - and arches into Gimli’s quick rough strokes while trying to keep his own hand moving in turn around the other man’s cock.  
  
“So fucking pretty!” Gimli shouts, hand tightening a little around Legolas’ cock. “Like an angel.”  
  
“Some angel,” Legolas says, combing his hand through the mass of red curls tumbling down over Gimli’s wide, wide shoulders.

He’s not sure if Gimli hears him. He doesn’t recognize the song, but it’s a loud one. The bass echoes inside his chest, in his head.  
  
“Perfect,” Gimli promises, and even though it’s nothing that Legolas haven’t heard before; being a quiet child with long blond hair earned him the title of angel quickly, it’s somehow never meant this much before.

His heart stings for a moment with the wish that he could really be perfect, perfect for this guy he’s just met, someone he doesn’t yet know the last name of.  
  
Yeah, not perfect. Far from it. Crazy’s more like it.

The tiny, wrecked noise Legolas makes is swallowed up when Gimli crowds him closer to the wall; all heat and muscles, and stretches up to kiss him.

Suddenly a little angry for no reason he can name, Legolas wrests control of the kiss, moving his hand down to Gimli’s jaw, cupping his face just a little too hard for it to be nice, and fucks into his mouth with rough sweeps of his tongue.  
  
Gimli makes no protests, he only grabs Legolas’ arse with his free hand and moans into the kiss, giving as good as he gets.  
  
As they separate, Legolas’ lips feel bruised and swollen, and he’s pretty sure that if someone went winning from that kiss it wasn’t him.  
  
The pleased, soft look in Gimli’s eyes informs him that he was the only one competing in the first place.  
  
He says something, but Legolas doesn’t hear it. Instead he clamps down on a thickly muscled shoulder, his knees wobbling as he spurts all over Gimli’s fist.

His hand twitches around Gimli’s cock, and he forces it to keep moving up and down, and it’s not long before he feels wet warm come drip down between his fingers. 

He feels Gimli's groan echo inside his own chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though this turned a little angsty I promise that it will quickly get horribly sappy after this scene!  
> Legolas half-imagines that they're done now, but asks for Gimli's number anyway.  
> This makes Gimli a little confused, because can't they just can't go somewhere else to talk and exchange numbers there. Coffee? Instead of trying to work their mobiles with come drying on their hands.
> 
> So they spend the rest of the night sitting at a tiny coffee shop. (yes they have a stop at the bathroom first) And then they go on to being one of those horribly smoshy couples that are attached at the hip. (Even though their dads hate each other at first sight)


	22. Day 22 - Handcuffs - Bofur/Dori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (yes I have a kink for Dori restraining people, do you blame me?)
> 
> Fem!Dori btw

Bofur had originally wanted a pair that looked more like the ones you saw in those police thingies on the telly. Or well, he supposed the police, the real police, had them as well, but Bofur didn't really have any experience with those.

Regardless, after bringing the subject up with his girlfriend, and one short lecture later about how that sort was not really designed for the safety of the one wearing them, and not their comfort either, Bofur suddenly found himself bundled up in his coat and on his way downtown with Dori to go handcuff shopping.

-  
  
“Forget anything with leopard pattern,” he warned when he saw Dori glance that way.  
  
“Don’t be crass,” she sniffed. “Of course I won’t pick those.”  
  
Apparently the picking of handcuffs was  _very_ serious business and after a couple of minutes of watching Dori frown and purse her lips with the utmost of concentration (adorable as that might be) Bofur felt restless and fidgety, and as he didn’t really have anything to add to help her make the decision he wandered off to look at the other sections of the store.  
  
Dori might have a point that he didn’t know much about handcuffs; decisions made based of something on the telly usually weren’t very good decisions, but he was a guy, with a cock, so Bofur did know a thing or two about those.

Which was why fifteen minutes later found him back at Dori’s side, a new dildo in hand. Well, in a box in his hand at least.

Just as well that it was in a box, buying a plastic cock that countless of strangers had already felt up would have been a tad weird.  
  
“Not done?” he asked, looking on as Dori eyed up two pairs of handcuffs, none of them with a leopard pattern thank Christ. “Just take the pink ones, they'll go well with this.” He wiggled the box in front of her face.

He’d gotten it _despite_ of the neon pink colour, not because of it, thank you very much. But no harm in matching.  
  
“You know you can’t leave me alone in a toy store,” Bofur said defensively when Dori raised an eyebrow. “Any kind of toy store.”  
  
-  
  
The padded cuffs were actually very comfortable, Bofur mused as he tugged a bit on them just to try it.  
  
“I didn’t really think you’d like handcuffs,” Dori said as she straddled his stomach, her breasts hovering tantalising close and Bofur was actually a little surprised when he reached for them only to be stopped by the handcuffs. 

Oh. Right.

The design of the headboard made it possible for him to move his arms up and down as he pleased, but his reach was non-existent.  
  
“Don’t know if I do,” Bofur said and shrugged slightly. “But no harm in trying it.”  
  
“ _If_ you know what you’re doing,” Dori pointed out, running her fingers up his arms, stroking over the edge of the cuffs, over the inside of his wrists. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”  
  
“Can I threaten to bite my lip if I don’t get a kiss?” Bofur teased, sticking his bottom out in an exaggerated pout when Dori chuckled. “I would also like to propose that you fondle those lovely tits of yours as I-“ The handcuff chain clinked against the headboard as he moved his hands. “-am a bit unable to at the moment.”  
  
“Demanding,” Dori remarked, but did as he asked, and Bofur licked his lips as she pinched her large pink nipples until they were pebbled up into hard buds that seemed to shout for his attention. Generously endowed as she was, Dori’s hands were not big enough to actually cup her breasts properly, and they jiggled enticingly as they threatened to make their escape.  
  
“Kiss?” Bofur asked hopefully, licking his lips again. And when Dori looked at him, her eyes already quite dark, his cock gave an equally hopeful twitch.  
  
-  
  
“Want to have me, or should I have you?” Dori murmured as she delivered nibbling kisses to his throat. “Not with that new one mind, I’ve no desire to leave you here as I go wash it before we use it.”  
  
“Much obliged,” Bofur agreed, tilting his neck to the side. “And as you please.”  
  
Dori made a small happy hum. “Thank you.”  
  
“My _pleasure_ ,” Bofur promised, overdoing the sincerity just a little, grinning up at Dori when she giggled.  
  
-  
  
It felt rather decadent to just lie back and watch as a gorgeous woman fucked herself enthusiastically on his cock, but Bofur tried not to be too lazy and jerked his hips upwards as best as he could as Dori rocked down.  
  
He was fairly sure that handcuffs wasn't about to become his favourite thing in bed. He felt a bit like a Tyrannosaurus what with the poor reach and flailing. A small, very horny Tyrannosaurus.

But it was definitely nice enough. If Dori felt like it she was welcome to bring them out again, for either of them to wear. But he was not about to-  
  
“It feels like you’re mine to enjoy and play with,” Dori breathed as she clenched down around him.  
  
“Ah-I, not going to argue?” Bofur hissed as she clenched again.  
  
“No, I mean-“ Dori spread her hands over his chest, rubbing her thumbs over his nipples.

As if they’d been connected by an electrical wire running through his body his hips jerked up, making Dori moan. “I love it when you touch me,” she said in something that Bofur had to describe as a purr. “But it’s a bit distracting too. You're very good at it. But now..."

Her eyes were half-lidded and glittering with promise.

"Imagine if you had a cock ring. I could ride you for _ages_. Coming again and again around you until you’re dripping with it. Keep you here in bed for my pleasure."

She gently tapped her nail to his left nipple and Bofur groaned and shivered  

"Play with you as I'd like," Dori continued and smiled down at him.

“Really not going to argue,” Bofur repeated, a bit more breathlessly than before.  
  
It was lucky he was already lying down, because as always when Dori smiled at him like that, his knees felt a bit weak.

This handcuff idea might turn out to be one of his better ones after all.

"The pink one you bought today is a bit big for you to have inside of you when you lie like this, but... a vibrator maybe... Snug up against that spot inside. Milking you so you'll make me even messier when you get to come."

Yeah. Definitely one of his better ideas.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dori and Bofur is a bit like lady and the tramp  
> Only with a lot more kinky sex
> 
> Does this thought make sense to someone else?
> 
> Also, this is at least twice now that I've written Bofur as someone who merrily goes along with whatever seems like a good idea in bed, always being rather pleasantly surprised. And he's always very into his partner's pleasure.  
> Yup, this is now cemented as my head canon for him.


	23. Day 23 - Incubus - Ori/Kíli

“Um,” Ori said.  
  
“Oh, it’s not what you were looking for?”  
  
Ori blinked at the gorgeous woman who had just appeared in his kitchen. Literally out of nowhere. "Um?"

She had long dark hair, dark eyes, and clothes that left very little to the imagination. Calling them clothes might even be exaggerating a bit.

The woman snapped her fingers and just like that she turned into an equally gorgeous man who could have been her twin.

He was wearing even less.

“Is this better?”  
  
“Um, what is going on?” Ori asked, a little surprised at himself for not freaking out. He carefully put his pencil down on the table. “You-“ Ori balked a little at saying out loud that he (she?) had appeared out of nowhere, that would make it all too strange.  
  
“You summoned me,” the man said as he sauntered up to Ori, wide grin on his handsome face. “So tell me, what can I-“  
  
“I didn’t,” Ori protested. “I- Summoned?”  
  
The man started to reach for Ori’s sketch, and Ori reflexively tugged it away from him so it wouldn’t get messy.  
  
“You’ve drawn my seal,” the guy said, pointing towards the drawing, towards the made-up runes Ori had made just to fill up an empty space on the shield of the Viking he’d been drawing.

“Um, no?”  
  
“Yes?” He pointed at himself. “Incubus.” Pointed at Ori. “And _you_ summoned me.”  
  
“No?” Ori shook his head. “That’s, I was just sketching.”

“Oh,” the man, _demon_ (?) sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Well. This is awkward.” He glanced down at Ori through thick dark eyelashes. “Mum told me I should have an incantation as well. For people to summon me. But it seemed a little ridiculous.”  
  
He flicked his tongue out over his plush bottom lip and Ori swallowed.

“No harm done.” A thought occurred to him.

“Because you’re not going to kill me, or anything?” Ori asked suspiciously.  
  
The demon grinned. “Only the little death, I swear. And only if you’re willing.” He started to sit down on the table but paused when Ori yelped at him to stop, his expression turning apologetic and a little dejected.  
  
“No, I mean,” Ori waved his hands. “Let me put away my drawings supplies first.”  
  
The demon perked up again.

-  
  
“I’m Kíli by the way.”  
  
“Ori,” Ori panted as he gripped the sides of the table. He’d only wanted to put away his drawings and things because that was what he always did when he stopped using them. It was better to have everything neat and organised for the next time. But the demon, _Kíli_ , had taken that as a suggestion that they should use the table for entirely inappropriate things and that was how Ori found himself naked and spread out over the dining table, with a demon doing his best to suck his brains out through his cock.  
  
 _Although_ , Ori thought, as Kíli smiled at him before he continued to lap at his cock as if it was his favourite treat. _This_   _ **could** be considered a form of eating. Eating is appropriate for the kitchen._

-  
  
When Kíli was suddenly straddling Ori’s lap, Ori’s cock pressed up against his arse, Ori managed to find enough brain cells to protest.

He wrenched his hands away from the death grip they had on the table and clutched at Kíli’s hips.  
  
“You’ve not- preparation! You’ll hurt yourself.”  
  
“Don’t worry,” Kíli moaned as he sank down with an amazing ease considering how tightly and snugly he squeezed  Ori's cock.

As he settled in Ori’s lap he smiled lazily, and his eyes flashed a deep gold. “It’s all good. I can do anything you want. Any fantasy. Virgin?”  
  
Suddenly the snug, slick heat around Ori was almost excruciatingly tight, and he gasped as Kíli clenched and fluttered around him, his hands tightening on Kíli’s hips.  
  
“Or well-fucked?” The tightness eased and he began riding Ori, thigh muscles flexing as he lifted himself up and rocked back down. Each slide of their bodies producing a filthy, sloppy wet sounds, and Ori blinked dazedly as he looked down to see thick, creamy come dribbling down his cock every time Kíli lifted himself up.   
  
“Or anything in between,” Kíli concluded, and Ori’s cock twitched as it was squeezed tighter again, but not too tight. The come had vanished and Ori blinked again.

“Would you like to fuck me until I’m dripping with you like that? I can make that happen," Kíli promised, his voice a low purr.

Ori’s mouth opened, but he had no idea what he wanted.   
  
“What will it be?” Kíli prompted, sliding his hands over Ori’s chest to play with his small pink nipples.  
  
Ori’s hands clenched on Kíli’s hips. “What do you want?”  
  
There was a brief pause.  
  
“You’re sweet,” Kíli murmured and stretched down for a kiss. “I like sweet things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm totally snickering a bit at my own fic  
> The "you've drawn my seal thing"
> 
> Because I'm picturing seal the animal   
> And Ori having sketched a happy baby seal and that's what it takes to summon Kíli
> 
> Also, take a moment to imagine the rest of Kíli's family, all as desire demons. :D that's an interesting thing indeed.


	24. Day 24 - Cockslut - Fíli/Bofur, Fíli/Many, Bofur/Many

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (many people are related, but not actually fucking anyone they're related to, but yeah)
> 
> the 'many' is technically speaking Bofur/Dwalin, Bofur/Thorin, Bofur/Kíli, Fíli/Nori, Fíli/Bifur, Fíli/Bombur

“Let me see,” Dwalin said as he spread Bofur’s arse cheeks. “Did you like that?”  
  
“How did you ever guess?” Bofur gasped, arms and knees trembling as Dwalin gently rubbed the flat of his thumb over the flushed rim of Bofur’s hole; through the seed slowly leaking out of him. It was far more than it would have been had Dwalin been the first one to take him that evening.  
  
“Probably the moaning,” Fíli suggested, head tilted towards Bofur. Nori snickered and patted Fíli’s hip, changing his grip slightly before continuing to fuck into him with quick, sure strokes.  
  
“The enthusiastic wailing?”  
  
“The both of you can kindly- ohhhh....” Bofur pressed his head down against the pillow as Dwalin’s tongue speared into him.  
  
“The moaning,” Fíli decided, arching up against Nori, angling himself for- “Not that I blame him,” Fíli groaned as each thrust of Nori’s hips brushed over the perfect spot, his cock sliding slickly in and out, in and out, in-  
  
Nori’s hands tightened on Fìli’s hips as he came, grinding in deep, and Fíli shivered, his own cock hanging heavy between his legs. He probably wouldn't last through another fuck without spurting.  
  
He shivered again as Nori pulled out, both from the sudden cold of not having someone draped over his back, and also from being much too empty. But he didn’t have to worry.  
  
Bifur gently helped Fíli to turn to lie on his back before pulling the blond's legs over his shoulders.  
  
He hummed contently as he slowly sank his thick cock inside Fíli, going much slower than he really had to to drag out the sensation, and Fìli’s hands scrambled over the sheets to find something to hold on to. A hand took his, and he looked to the side to find Bofur smiling at him, green eyes glazed and slightly unfocused with pleasure.  
  
Dwalin had moved away, and Thorin was fucking Bofur now, slow but powerful strokes, his hands on Bofur’s hips, holding him steady.  
  
Bofur’s entire upper body was pressed to the bed, making his arse stick up almost obscenely. The curve of his back was beautiful and Fíli returned the smile and squeezed his hand.

  
  
Later, Fíli and Bofur was pressed together, on their sides, chest to chest, kissing, well, more like groaning into each other's mouth as they were teased by the other's brother.  
  
Bombur fucked Fíli with just the head of his cock, barely even moving.  
  
Kíli, while all the way inside of Bofur, didn’t move and instead petted and stroked everywhere he could reach on Bofur’s body; sneaking his hand between Bofur and Fíli to tweak the former's nipples and gently tugging at his half-hard cock to get his hole to clench and flutter around him.  
  
As he nudged one thick finger inside Bofur, alongside his cock, Bofur's jaw fell open and he hid his face against Fíli's neck.  
  
"It would take some planning," Kíli murmured. "But I'm sure we could figure out a way for me and Fíli to take you at the same time, and have someone fucking Fíli as well. Would that please you both?"

As Bofur seemed to have trouble breathing, Fíli took it upon himself to answer.  
  
"Fuck us both properly _now_ , or _I_ will make plans that you won't enjoy at all."

"Royal decree?" Bombur asked, but he finally sank all the way inside so Fíli didn't bother replying.

(And the lack of reply was not at all because Bombur had a really impressive cock. Nope.)


	25. Day 25 -  Arranged Marriage - Nori/Glóin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fem!Nori, because I'm kinda crazy about fem!Nori and Glóin, lol, and I think I'm the only one writing it  
> not that there's a lot of peeps writing male!Nori/Glóin but yeah
> 
> Write more Nori/Glóin is what I'm saying.
> 
> And because I'm warming up for the fix-it December stories, in the verse this story is set in, Erebor never had a visit from a megalomaniac Dragon, so everything is happy, yay!

It was her wedding day.

Nori knew she was probably supposed to be nervous, or scared, or at least hesitant. Or why not upset that Dori had arranged the marriage for her.

But pfft, that was for people marrying someone not in possession of the skill to get your knickers wet with just a look.  
  
If she _had_ made any sort of protest she was sure that Dori would have found a reason not to accept the offer, even though it was from someone who technically was in line for the throne, but after the first meeting with her intended, Nori had no desire not to accept the engagement.  
  
Glóin had smiled at her, and bowed; thick mane of hair even redder than her own falling over his shoulders, neatly secured with a few elegant braids, (even if his beard had appeared to fight the clasps trying to control it) and as he’d taken her hand his fingers had brushed over her wrist and stroked along the sensitive inside of it.

He had bowed to press a kiss to her knuckles, keeping his eyes locked with hers and his smile had turned from polite to something… else.

There’d been appreciation, and a definite promise for other kinds of kisses. And a spark. But Nori hadn't been entirely sure what kind.

  
When she’d attempted to make good on that promise she'd seen Glóin had played innocent and declared that it would not be proper of them to go beyond merely being friends before the wedding. But the spark in his eyes…   
  
The months leading up to the wedding had been torturous.

Not because Nori disliked being courted.

Receiving pretty and expensive gifts, most of it jewellery was certainly pleasant, and Glóin was good company too, never at a loss for words. Sometimes he was a little gruff, and sometimes he did not understand her jokes, but it was worth making them because when he did understand she was rewarded by deep, belly rumbling laughs.

No, the worst thing about their courtship was that she really and truly suspected that Glóin wasn’t even half as proper as he played at being.

Or perhaps that was a good thing.  
  
Anyway, Nori thought that had he not realised how badly she wanted to start practicing certain aspects of married life then he’d not have decided to be such a stickler for the rules and refuse to do more than kiss her hand before they were married.

Which meant that he was a horrible tease.  
  
Nori rather admired him for it.  
  
-  
  
Having been primped and prepped to an inch of her life, suffered through a ceremony that seemed to last for at least three Ages, and then having to sit through a celebratory dinner Nori was incredibly impressed by her own ability to not rip out her beard out of sheer frustration.  
  
Also by her ability to not simply push Glóin down to the floor to investigate if that rather interesting bulge in his fancy trousers was just as interesting when not covered by cloth.

  
They’d no sooner sat down at the dinner before a large, warm hand had made itself at home on her thigh, too high up to be proper, but unseen by anyone unless they were prancing about underneath the table.

Two could play that game, but Nori did not exactly get _less_ excited by stroking over a thickly muscled thigh, and when Glóin made no move to stop her she inched her way up until she could fit her hand over the previously mentioned, very interesting, bulge in his trousers.  
  
She thought she was probably the only one who heard the soft exhale of breath as she squeezed it. But like the tease he was, Glóin moved her hand away when her fingers began to tug at laces.  
  
... All right, he might have a point considering that both their families were sitting around them, but _still_.  
  
And she didn’t know if she wanted to kill or promise her everlasting loyalty to Glóin's cousin when he banged his mug against the table, shouting for them to kiss.  
  
They’d kissed briefly, _properly_ , as the King (the bloody _King_ ) had declared them to be wedded, but Nori wanted their next one to be proper in a different way all together.  
  
That was why she didn’t settle for a polite brush of mouth against mouth and instead bit down on Glóin’s bottom lip, making good use of the reflexive opening of his mouth to snog him good and _proper_.  
  
She wasn’t sure if the small noise her husband made was a chuckle or a sigh, but he kissed her back so Nori counted that as a win.

Smug, she turned to sit _properly_ on her chair again, looking innocently across the table at Dori who appeared to be studying his fork _very_ intently.  
  
-  
  
Finally, they were alone in what would now be their bedroom.

It was not unfamiliar to Nori, as she’d had hand in picking out the bedding and furniture, but it would be the first night she slept there. And hopefully very little sleeping would be done.  
  
Pulling the pins, beads and other contraptions that Dori had considered necessary from her hair Nori let her eyes travel leisurely over Glóin’s body as he poured them some wine.  
  
“They tell me that we’re properly married now,” she stated.  
  
“Oh.” Glóin feigned surprise. “Is that what just happened?”  
  
“You didn’t read the contract you signed?” Nori teased, knowing that if anything he’d written the damned thing.  
  
“I was too distracted by the beauty at my side,” Glóin said and offered her one of the goblets he held.

A twist of Nori’s wrist and the last of the elaborate hairstyle Dori had forced her to sit still for came tumbling down over her shoulders in a copper wave.  
  
Taking the silver goblet she raised an eyebrow. “I warn you now,” she said, shaking her head. “If this is the start of another ceremony I don’t know what will happen.”  
  
“I was thinking of proposing a toast,” Glóin said, lifting his free hand and running it through her freed locks, then over her beard which was still neatly braided and adorned with golden clasps. “I’d like to thank you for the _patience_ you’ve shown ever since our first meeting.”  
  
His tone was amused, and Nori’s eyes narrowed. “So you _did_ do it on purpose.”  
  
“I did not want you to get tired of me already before we were wedded,” Glóin said and shrugged. He raised his goblet, and Nori raised hers in turn, snorting with equal amounts of admiration and exasperation as they knocked the goblets against each other.  
  
“If it would happen that quickly then I think you still need to worry,” she cautioned, giving him a crooked smile. “Or do you only plan on being my husband for a few months?”  
  
“No,” Glóin said, smiling back at her in that way that made something inside Nori’s stomach start to smoulder.

Lifting the goblet to her mouth she drained it in a big gulp, not particularly ladylike, but who cared.  
  
“Oh look, I’ve finished my wine. Whatever shall I entertain myself with now.” Winking at her husband, Nori put the goblet away and started to unbind her beard as well. “I promise, I dont need any fancy gestures to lure me to your bed.”  
  
“Perhaps not,” Glóin said, sipping at his drink, eyes following her as she moved across the room. “But to keep you there?”  
  
“I would say that depends entirely on what will happen in said bed,” Nori challenged.  
  
A slow smile spread over Glóin’s face. “I would think life with you will be interesting, will it not?”  
  
As a reply Nori paused her work to rebraid her beard into something more practical, and pulled up her skirts (not missing the appreciative look that earnt her from Glóin) until she could work her daggers up and out from her stockings.

Tossing them on the same chest of drawers as she put the goblet on she grinned at her husband who blinked at her for a few moments before laughing hard enough that some of the wine in his goblet ended up on the floor.  
  
“I knew you were incredible, first time I saw you,” he managed in-between gasping for breath.  
  
Pleased with that reaction, Nori sauntered up to him and curled her fingers around the hand still holding the goblet. Leaning in, in an imitation of all the times he’d kissed her hand, she lapped up the drops of wine still clinging to his skin.

The goblet fell to the floor, most likely staining both of their wedding garments, but Nori did not care in the slightest as she wrapped her arms around Glóin’s neck, holding tight as he carried her off to the bed.  
  
But when said wedding garments turned out to be impossible to extract yourself from in a suitably quick fashion Nori _did_ care about that.   
  
“I can go and get the daggers,” Nori muttered, lying on her stomach as Glóin unbuttoned the myriad of tiny buttons on the back of the dress. Dori had somehow made it seem easy when he’d helped her dress, and Nori hadn’t even considered that someone not quite as nimble fingered would have a problem.  
  
“To use on your dress or on me?” Glóin asked and pressed a kiss to an uncovered patch of skin, his beard a rough tickle.  
  
“The dress of course,” Nori snorted and glanced at him over her shoulder. “I’ve no need for that, but you on the other hand…”  
  
“I’m glad and relieved to hear it,” Glóin murmured, and the very next moment buttons danced over the bed and down to the floor.  
  
“You _ripped_ it?” Nori asked, raising herself up on one elbow. As she grinned she could feel that her cheeks were actually beginning to hurt. Admittedly not the part of her body she'd expected to get sore on her wedding night. “Brilliant.”  
  
From that point it was easy enough to get out of her dress and her undergarments, and once she was naked Nori stretched out on the bed, waving imperiously at her husband. “And now you.”  
  
“As my lady dema-“ Glóin’s words trailed off as Nori moved her hand down to play with the curls between her legs.  
  
“Yes?” she asked innocently as she slid a finger inside herself, wriggling a little to find a good angle.  
  
-  
  
The speed with which the rest of Glóin’s clothing was removed was quite a compliment.  
  
-  
  
Finally allowed to look and touch her fill Nori almost wanted to tell Glóin to just bloody well lie still and let her enjoy, but while being touched in turn was quite distracting it was hard to really object to it. 

She'd touching herself to the memory of his lips against her _hand_ , this was much, much better.   
  
Somehow she ended up straddling him, sitting astride his hard length which rested flush against his stomach, the head of it peeking out as she rubbed herself against him, making him slick with her juices which ran freely now that they had no knickers to make a mess of.

Glóin’s hands travelled all over her body, cupping her breasts and teasing the small buds stiffening from the attention, stroking over her arms and stomach, kneading her arse and thighs, and Nori was beginning to at least consider the possibility of forgiving him for the months of torture he’d just put her through.  
  
It was simple to rise up on her knees, but as she wrapped her hand around Glóin’s cock (which had not left her disappointed with its length and thickness) she got a little distracted stroking it, and she did not remember what she’d been planning until Glóin made an almost pained groan.  
  
“You could have said something,” she smiled as she rubbed the head of it against her outer folds, not teasing for long before she took mercy on them both and sank down, the stretch easy and welcome.  
  
“You seemed to enjoy yourself,” Glóin said, his voice hoarse, and his hands holding her hips quite tightly.

“I’m enjoying myself now too,” Nori pointed out. Biting down on her bottom lip she clenched as hard as she could around him. As Glóin cursed Nori snickered. “Very much so.”  
  
“I’m glad,” Glóin said and slid his hand around her hip until his thumb rested just above her pearl. Nori shivered as he just barely brushed over it, and moaned loudly as he repeated the motion with more confidence.  
  
Bracing her hands on his chest Nori began to move, and Glóin watched with rapt attention as she took him inside of her over and over again.

When he raised his gaze to smile at her the heat flared anew in her belly and Nori leaned down to find out once and for all what that smile tasted like.

-

Afterwards, Nori snuggled up to Glóin’s chest, her left leg thrown over his and his arms around her.  
  
“Tired of me yet?” he asked, playing with a few strands of her hair.  
  
Nori shook her head, a pleased smile impossible to keep away from her lips. “I think you might be stuck with me for quite some time. My condolences.”  
  
Glóin chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath her ear and Nori grinned and pressed her lips to the closest patch of skin.

Still only her cheeks aching so far. But the night was long. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't knooooow why they are so cute, but they aaaaare.


	26. Day 26 - Impregnation Kink - Bilbo/Bofur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fem!Bilbo 
> 
> And this story turned out a bit more angsty than I intended, related to what happens at the end of a certain battle, (lalala, soon December fix-it time), and the entire fic is a good example of why a fic in response to a prompt might not turn out the way I quite meant it to
> 
> Established relationship, but just recently established at the start of the story, and speaking of:
> 
> this starts out as a slight variation on a theme (Hobbits = like rabbits) I've done before, but then the point wasn't babies, it was to avoid them, and it was a different pairing, but if you think it's a bit familiar at the start that's why.
> 
> Also I think this is my first Bofur/Bilbo fic? Can that really be true?
> 
> And I'll stop rambling now.

Bilbo tucked herself as close as possible against Bofur’s side, and a little closer still as he wrapped one arm around her, the other stroking along her back.  
  
“Cold?” Bofur whispered, his arm tightening a little. “I can take my coat off and you-“  
  
“It’s all right.” Bilbo rubbed her cheek against his chest, bulky from all the layers of cloth, but even without it she knew that it would be quite different from the lads she’d gone with before. They'd only come to an... _agreement_ fairly recently, but she’d had eyes for a long time, and there’d (thankfully) been a fair share of stop to get clean on their quest so far. Bilbo knew rather what Bofur looked like beneath all his clothes.  
  
She snickered softly. “However I wish we could use the tried and true method to stay warm.”  
  
Bofur snorted. “In the middle of camp no less? And you call yourself a proper Hobbit?”  
  
“Well, I don’t these days,” Bilbo whispered and stretched up to press a kiss to Bofur’s chin, nose wrinkling in surprise at the still unfamiliar feeling of hair against her lips. “But you have a point. Not to mention it would not be wise with a pregnant burglar.”

“Well not much chance of that,” Bofur said and pressed a kiss to the top of Bilbo’s curls.  
  
The Hobbit frowned. “What-“  
  
“We are trying to _sleep_ ,” Bombur grumbled. “Can you two lovebirds continue tomorrow?”  
  
-

“What did you mean last night?”  
  
“Care to be a bit more precise, love?”  
  
Bilbo finally managed to convince her pony to trot a little closer to Bofur’s. “Not much chance of me getting with child?” she explained. “Because I think this is a little too risky just to rely on you pulling out at the-“  
  
“But,” Bofur looked around and lowered his voice. “Children take years, love. ‘m not eager to get to the Dragon, but I really hope we won’t be out here for that long.”  
  
“Years?” Bilbo laughed a little. Bofur must have misunderstood her question, because that was an absurd notion. “Sometimes, sure. But sometimes all it takes is once. I’m not as young as I used to be, naturally, but I’ve a cousin my age, and she had twins just last year. Why I expect-“  
  
That’s when Bofur fell off his pony.

-  
  
The next couple of days made Bilbo was forced to conclude once and for all that while Dwarfs might be awfully nice to look at, especially the ones with green eyes, messy braids and ridiculous hats, they weren’t very bright.

But eventually they all – not only Bofur – understood that just because little Dwarflings were a bit shy to sprout did it mean it was the same for everyone else.  
  
That it wasn’t just Bofur she had to convince was due to the fact that after Bofur had fallen off his pony, he’d not gotten back on it until Dwalin had lifted him up on the poor animal. Then he’d promptly fallen off again.  
  
Unsurprisingly this prompted more than a few questions. And Gandalf was of no use at all, bloody wizard, as he casually let it slip that Bilbo’s mother had been one out of twelve siblings.  
  
At least falling off their ponies didn’t seem to cause any real damage. And as mentioned, eventually they _did_ understand what she was saying, and they _did_ calm down.  
  
Only Bofur learned the lesson a little too well, and Bilbo had to have _another_ conversation with him in which she pointed out all of the ways that she _couldn’t_ get with child, like kissing, touching and for Eru’s sake, Bofur, we’re both dressed, lie _down_.  
  
-  
  
A few months later, or close to an eternity, depending how you looked at it, Bilbo and Bofur stole away to seek some privacy inside the halls of Erebor. The rest of the Company seemed to be quite busy cooing over golden treasures, and no one noticed when Bilbo took Bofur by the hand and disappeared. Not literally, of course, but considering the amount of attention they were paid they might as well have used her ring, no one would have noticed regardless.  
  
-

“I’m close,” Bofur panted into the side of Bilbo’s neck. “I need to stop.”  
  
“No,” Bilbo protested, tugging on even messier than normal braids.  
  
“I can’t-“  
  
“You can,” Bilbo promised, her heels pressing into the small of Bofur’s back. “Don’t stop.”  
  
“It’s not safe yet,” Bofur gritted, and pulled out, Bilbo’s legs falling open on each side of him. His cock were slick from them both, and stood proudly at attention as he knelt in front of her, and Bilbo desperately wanted it back inside of her. The wonderful, amazing tingling feeling in her stomach was already disappearing, and she squirmed unhappily.  
  
“Bofur…”  
  
“A moment,” he said, and gulped in a shaky breath of air. And true to his word, he crawled forward to lie next to her, rubbing his fingers over that spot that made her shiver, and then slipping two of them inside of her.  
  
Bilbo gasped and shuddered. “More?”  
  
Another finger squeezed in, and Bilbo moaned low in her throat at the stretch and rocked her hips to try and get them deeper inside.  
  
It was lucky they’d indeed never tried something like this in the middle of camp, because as Bofur rubbed his thumb in circles over Bilbo’s stiff little nub, she shouted and the sheer pleasure of it made her legs shake and jerk.  
  
As she fluttered and clenched around his fingers Bofur moaned and got his free hand around himself. It only took a couple of pulls before he spurted messily on Bilbo’s stomach.  
  
-  
  
As spring returned to the rolling green hills of the Shire, so did Bilbo, and Bofur with her.  
  
After certain relatives had been dealt with, and after a sufficient amount of food had been acquired, Bilbo made a sign which she hung on her green door, politely informing everyone that they could come calling in a few days, but no sooner than three. Then she locked said green door, and the back one and made sure all the windows were covered by curtains.  
  
Bofur was waiting for her in the hall, and he opened his arms, pulling her snugly against his chest.  
  
“I want a baby,” Bilbo said quietly. “And if we can’t get one, we’re adopting a bunch of puppies, or kittens, or I don’t know, lambs.” She looked up at Bofur, hazel eyes serious. “There’s been too much death. I need, I need-“  
  
“Shhhh,” Bofur said and pressed his lips against her forehead.  
  
Bilbo sighed and closed her eyes. “I know we’ve talked about this, but are you sure-“  
  
“There’s no one but you I’d want a child with,” Bofur whispered as cupped the back of her neck, gently combing his hands through the honey-coloured curls that had grown rather long during the year since Bilbo left her home. “And I do want one, with you. And I’d like to stay. Here. With you.” He pulled back and smiled at her, perhaps not as cheerful as normal, but it still had that bright twinkle that Bilbo loved so.  "And I'd want a puppy too, or a kitten. But lambs grow up to be sheep and I've never been terribly fond of sheep."

Bilbo made a noise half-between a giggle and a hiccup.  
  
“I love you,” she breathed, turning her face up for a kiss, one that Bofur willingly delivered.  
  
“Love you.”  
  
At first the kisses were languid, unhurried, but soon enough Bilbo and Bofur were stumbling through the smial, leaving a trail of clothes as they went, and none of them even cared about the puff of dust that appeared as they tumbled down onto the bed, too caught up in each other. They were home now, and safe, and maybe now there'd finally be time for things that they'd not allowed to happen before.  
  
-  
  
“Now, now, now,” Bilbo chanted and pulled on Bofur’s wrist, and he nodded as best as he could as he pressed kisses to her breasts, his moustache a persistent tickle. 

She shivered at the wet sound when he pulled his fingers out of her. “Bofur, Bofur, now-“ she reached for him, her small fingers pale against the ruddy flush of his cock.  
  
They both groaned as he slid inside, and Bilbo wrapped both arms and legs around him and clung. Bofur buried his face against her neck, whispering promises too softly for her to really hear, in-between pressing kisses to her skin.  
  
“Don’t hold back,” Bilbo whispered. “I- I want to be dripping with it. I want you to- fill me up. Until the mattress is entirely ruined beneath us.”  
  
Bofur’s hips stuttered, and Bilbo tried to spread her legs wider while still having them wrapped around Bofur’s waist.  
  
“Not on my belly, this time,” Bilbo muttered and her hands travelled down Bofur’s broad back to knead at his arse, tugging at him to try and make him go faster. “ _In_ my belly. In me. So deep inside it won’t even come out at first. Not until the next time you have me, and I’m already slick with you. No fingers needed. You can just slide right in and make us a baby.”  
  
“Bilbo.” Bofur’s thrust picked up speed, and he shifted until he could press their foreheads together, peppering her face with kisses. “Bilbo, love.”  
  
“Yes,” Bilbo promised, her hands scrambling over his back, wanting to stroke and pet and cling all at the same time.  
  
“Bilbo.” Bofur hid his face against her neck again, rubbing his cheek against curls already damp with sweat.

Bilbo squeaked as his teeth grazed her skin in the next kiss, and to her own surprise, that tiny sting was all that was needed for her to have white light flash behind her eyes, and shivering she tumbled over the edge, holding on to Bofur as if letting go meant dying.  
  
Her body screwed up tight around his cock, and Bofur froze, chest heaving as Bilbo moaned beneath him looking as pretty as anything he’d ever seen with flushed cheeks and curls a tangled mess.

As if she knew what he was waiting for her eyes fluttered open, and she raised a shaking hand to stroke his cheek, petting over his moustache. “Please?”  
  
Bofur started to move again, each thrust making Bilbo moan and twitch as it felt like a shadow of the crest she’d just tumbled off.

It didn’t take long before Bofur gasped, and pressed inside as far as he could. His hips rocked once, twice more, and Bilbo moaned and shuddered as she could feel his cock jerk as he filled her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now I'll start rambling again.
> 
> I rather wonder if there could be a biological thingy (look at me being scientific) that actually requires a pair to sleep together for years for there to be a baby. I could see there being like a hormonal thing or something like that, nudged along by an exchange of fluids or what not.
> 
> And that's then at least in part what hinders Dwarfs from having many babies, and also why they're really monogamous? (As I think they are for most part except for when they're whatever it's called when you're with several people in a stable relationship)
> 
> It *could* have advantages, though not terribly big ones I guess. And I don't really see how such a thing really gets going unless it's been there all along, natural selection would def work against it, because even if there are advantages to being a kid raised by a pair which have been together a long time, it would hardly outweigh the benefits of just having like five kids in the same time.  
> Hmmm.


	27. Day 27 - Hair pulling - Thorin/Bofur

Bofur was quite convinced that he was either dead or dreaming, but either way, he was being sucked off by his King, and not only that, but Thorin had just tugged Bofur’s hands to his head, Bofur's fingers sliding into dark locks.

Thorin looked up, his lips stretched wide around Bofur’s cock, and then hs hands tightened over Bofur's and tugged.  
  
Right.  
  
Dead, dreaming or not, it wasn’t like Bofur was going to turn something like this down. Free beer could just go and stuff itself in view of an offer like this.  
  
A little cautiously, just in case he’d misunderstood, Bofur curled his fingers a little more firmly into Thorin’s hair, and _pulled_.  
  
The result could not be denied. Thorin shuddered and groaned, the latter causing Bofur to moan in response and this time the tug on Thorin’s hair was quite a bit harder but also accidental as it had been a kneejerk reaction to the pleasure suddenly infusing his body.  
  
Not that it mattered, Thorin groaned again, and it was quite lucky Bofur had already locked his knees or he’d have ended up on the floor.  
  
A short while later a thought occurred to him, and he loosened his grip on Thorin’s hair, shivering a little at the displeased look that earned him. Displeased looked unfairly attractive on Thorin. Then again everything looked unfairly attractive on him.

“Wait, wait,” he panted, running slightly trembling fingers down Thorin’s cheek, through the short beard. “I want you to fuck me.”  
  
The wet popping sound when Thorin pulled off his cock almost did Bofur in right there and then.

-  
  
Knees almost pressed up to his ears and clutching fistfuls of dark hair Bofur moaned as Thorin’s lovely thick cock nudged its way inside him.  
  
Finding a braid Bofur curled it around his fingers and tugged, moaning loudly when it sent Thorin crashing down on top of him when one of his arms would no longer hold him.  
  
Stuffed full of cock, and with some difficulty breathing as most of Thorin’s not-inconsiderable weight rested on top of him, Bofur took a moment to thank Mahal and the other Valar and tugged on Thorin’s braid again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, really. Why are all pairings so cute in this fandom?


	28. Day 28 - Age difference - Dáin/Ori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how to write age difference as a _kink_ without turning it into a 'daddy' fic, or really underage, and as both those things are so not for me this is basically just Dáin and Ori, who indeed have an age difference between them. 
> 
> First time writing them, so that was fun :) And I hope you like it even if I kinda failed at the prompt. But of course Dwarfs will have age differences... *shrugs* And I'll shut up now.

Dáin had not failed to notice how comely his new aide was. And it was impossible to miss how bright the lad was.  
  
Even if he’d not made a name for himself as the scribe to Thorin’s company Dáin was convinced that Ori would have gone far.

He’d not considered that ‘far’ would include a stop in his bed.  
  
Dáin had not even realised that he was being pursued before Nori, now his spymaster, appeared from the shadows one night as Dáin got ready for bed and informed him that he needed to ‘bed Ori or put him out of his misery’. Apparently his spymaster hated pining. And apparently Ori was pining. Huh.  
  
The next morning Dáin was rather busy looking at Ori, trying to find signs that he really was interested, and as such, he didn’t hear a thing the lad was saying about his schedule.  
  
“- the Jewellers Guild would like-“  
  
“I’m entirely too old for you,” Dáin remarked out of the blue, and Ori blinked at him for a moment. But he didn’t ask what Dáin meant, another sign that he was indeed a bright lad.  
  
“Unless that means you think I’m too young you for you, I would think that’s up to me to decide.” A little belatedly Ori tacked on “My King.” looking a bit apologetic. Dáin snorted, and then chuckled at the offended look that crossed that handsome face.  
  
“I mean only that you need to call me by my first name for this to work.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“No, Dáin,” Dáin prompted, trying to look serious.  
  
“Dáin,” Ori smiled.  
  
-  
  
“Dáin!” Ori gasped as he sank down on the King’s cock, hands clutching at Dáin’s shoulder and the backrest of the chair that now held them both.  
  
It would not be wise, but Dáin couldn’t get rid of the image that’d entered his mind of repeating this in the throne room, and have Ori bouncing in his lap while seated on Erebor’s throne.  
  
His hands on Ori’s hips Dáin helped him to start moving, guiding him into an easy rhythm of rising and falling as he rode Dáin’s cock, strong thighs flexing beautifully.  
  
Ori’s own cock was pink and stiff, a pearl of liquid shimmering at the tip, and Dáin licked his mouth.  
  
“If you don’t finish before I do I want to get my mouth on you.”  
  
“Ah, ah, I- can, more than once.” Ori shuddered and twitched as he found the angle he’d been looking for.

Dáin grinned.

Ah, the blessings of youth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And let's say Dáin is king because Thorin moved to the Shire, Fíli and Kíli are not deemed old enough, and Dís prefers to be queen of the Blue Mountains


	29. Day 29 - Hot spots - Bilbo/Bombur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final one tomorrow! And after that Fix-it December will hopefully be a go.
> 
> Don't miss my story for the reverse Big Bang! Stay tuned ;)

Bombur discovered that Bilbo’s ears were extremely sensitive at a fairly early stage of their courting. He’d just meant to brush a stray curl away, so when Bilbo squeaked, turned red, and squirmed as if he’d sat down on an anthill, Bombur had been somewhat confused.  
  
He’d been entirely _delighted_ after Bilbo had explained. And even more so after Bilbo explained that he’d not mind if Bombur touched his ears in _private_.

Lying next to Bilbo, sucking on his earlobe while fisting his sweet, chubby cock… it quickly became Bombur’s favourite thing in the world. Mostly because of the sounds it earned him. Always a little squeak first, as if Bilbo was surprised at how good it felt. Then a few shaky breaths, followed by moans. Quiet ones, almost like sighs. But that was just the start.  
  
By the time his pretty cock was leaking all over Bombur’s hand, Bilbo would have progressed to a constant stream of moans, groans and incoherent praise, and Bombur’s own cock would be hard as marble, but yes, neglected, because _how_ could he tear his attention away from something so delectable even for a few moments.

It was just as enjoyable, if not more, to keep one hand wrapped around Bilbo’s cock, and sneak the other one around his head, to tug at and massage the earlobe not being licked, sucked and nibbled on. It made Bilbo all but melt into whatever surface he rested upon, like sugared ice left too close to the fire.

-  
  
It took Bilbo longer to find out that the back of Bombur’s knees were just as… interesting.

He’d gotten the first clue in Mirkwood.  
  
Bombur had been sleeping, and not the normal sort of sleeping, no. It had been after he’d fallen into the river.  
  
Worried and miserable and cold, Bilbo had looked down at his lover where he slept, quite peacefully, on the forest floor. He’d been turned on his side by Dwalin and Bifur, as they’d worried that he might have water in his lungs that would had some point decide that it wanted to be coughed up. Admittedly, making sure that Bombur didn’t choke to death had been thoughtful of them, except for how Bilbo now couldn’t sleep for fear that something would happen to Bombur during the night.  
  
Bilbo ended up curled behind Bombur’s back, listening to him breathing, and freezing each time a breath was just the slightest bit rougher or just different from the one that had come before.  
  
He’d originally been planning to sleep on top of Bombur, but that seemed like a very bad idea if there was risk of choking, throwing up and all sorts of other things Bilbo didn’t particularly want to think about but couldn’t help but think about anyway.  
  
Squirming around, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, Bilbo accidentally kicked Bombur in the back of one knee, and immediately afterwards Bombur shuddered and let out a small groan.  
  
Circumstances being what they was, Bilbo hadn’t exactly connected the dots. Instead he’d bounced up with a shout, waking everyone who had actually managed to fall asleep in the process. He'd been half-afraid that Bombur was dying, half-hopeful that he was waking up, but neither of those two things happened.

Bombur had slept on, and Bofur gave Bilbo an entirely too sympathetic look considering that it was _his_ brother lying insensate on the ground  
  
No, Bilbo very much preferred an evening a few months later. When he could crawl beneath a pile of cosy furs; a fire burning low on the hearth, and spread himself over a half-asleep Bombur’s bare back.  
  
“Hullo,” Bombur murmured and Bilbo rubbed his cheek against Bofur’s shoulder. Then, accidentally, he’d slipped a little, and like he’d done in Mirkwood; albeit during vastly different circumstances, he’d kicked Bombur in the back of his left knee.  
  
The result was surprising; a loud moan, a little alarming; Bombur shuddered enough that Bilbo fell off him, and definitely interesting; because when Bilbo crawled out from the furs and looked at his lover, Bombur no longer looked sleepy at all.  
  
“Um,” Bilbo said, looking between Bombur’s flushed round cheeks and dark eyes. “ _Something_ just happened. I’m not sure what.”  
  
“That felt-“ Bombur’s voice was husky. “Good.”  
  
A little distracted, as parts of him had been entirely ready to go to sleep, and parts of him now desperately wanted to investigate how far down Bombur’s flush had travelled, Bilbo eloquently asked: “What?”  
  
“When you touched my leg.”  
  
Glancing at Bombur’s leg, or at the furs covering it, Bilbo continued to prove his powerful grasp on language. “Really?”  
  
Bombur nodded and grinned at him, and then he casually shrugged off the furs.  
  
...Bilbo had no intention to go to sleep now.  
  
-  
  
It required a firm touch. Too gentle and it only tickled, and yes, after that discovery Bilbo did spend some time lightly running his fingers in circles over the skin, grinning at his lover as Bombur giggled and cursed and tried to crawl away only to fail as his knees were too weak to hold him.  
  
“Not to complain,” Bilbo said as he firmed his touch and watched the tension drain out of Bombur like water drained from a tub.   “But why didn’t you tell me about this before?”  
  
“I didn’t know,” Bombur replied, slightly muffled as his face was mostly buried in their pillows, hips rocking down against the mattress.  
  
-  
  
It took them a while to figure out how to use this new-found knowledge properly, but eventually Bilbo had Bombur spread out in front of him. Bombur’s legs were raised, feet braced against the wall behind Bilbo as to not put his full weight on him,  and this left Bilbo’s hands in a perfect position to fondle the back of Bombur's knees as he fucked him hard enough to make his stomach wobble in a very pleasing way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I'd like a talk with my brain.
> 
> Like, why knees? I have no idea. But knees it was.


	30. Day 30 - Harem - Bilbo/Everyone, Everyone/Everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finaaaaaal one!!!  
> Erm, I think we cover a lot of previously mentioned tags in this one.  
> But tags of interest... incest, everything is 100% consensual, some slightly rough play, HAPPY ENDING
> 
> Hahaha, this could basically have been for for Fix-it December, so it's a good finish now on the last of November.
> 
> Hope you've had fun, and hope you like this story!

If Bilbo had known that finding a particularly shiny stone in a room (albeit a  _huge_ room) full of gold and other shiny stones would lead to an orgy with him in the middle, then it was quite possible that he would have been less negative about the entire concept of going on an adventure in the first place.  
  
He’d only given the stone to Thorin because it seemed rather important. It had been shinier than all the others after all. And the way Thorin had accepted it; reverently, amazed, speechless, had confirmed that belief.  
  
To say that he’d been surprised when Thorin carefully put the stone away on top of his pack, turning back to cup Bilbo’s cheek before planting a very happy, very appreciative (and appreciated) kiss on his lips, would not have been to exaggerate. Of course that was nothing compared to how he’d felt when that kiss had ended and Fíli had politely tapped him on the shoulder, only to bestow him with an equally ardent kiss as Bilbo (rarher dazed) turned around to look at him.  
  
Nori hadn’t even asked before swooping in and the next Bilbo knew he’d been on his back on a pile of furs, trading kisses with Bofur while Fíli and Kíli quarrelled over the quickest way to undress someone. Him, to be precise.  
  
He didn’t pretend to understand it, (Dwarfs really liked shiny stones?) but Bilbo was perfectly happy to just go with it. After all he’d long since accepted the inherent strangeness of Dwarfs. And the strange attractiveness as well.

Everyone was just so very _lovely_ , each in their own way. And so very enthusiastic, it turned out.  
  
After coming for the fourth time; this time down Dori’s throat, Bilbo felt like a particularly pleased bowl of melted custard. True, he’d never tried melting custard, it was possible that it just turned to caramel, but nevertheless, he was hot, sticky and felt _very_ appreciated, so be it custard or caramel, either way was fine.

He spent the next while cuddled up next to Bofur and Thorin, just touching and being touched, watching as Dori leisurely sucked Bifur who, Bilbo noticed, was ever so polite and petted and stroked and didn’t pull on Dori’s hair at all.

Unlike Nori with Fíli, but to Nori’s credit Fíli rather seemed to be enjoying it. Especially when Nori pulled on his moustache braids. Unless it was just a coincidence that his cock decided to spurt at just that moment.  
  
The fifth time Bilbo tumbled over the edge happened after Bilbo had noticed Dwalin sprawled out, all on his lonesome, thick fingers curled around his cock as he teased himself to a second cockstand while watching Ori and Bombur shag. The pair was definitely a study in contrasts, but oh so pretty.  
  
And that could be said about Dwalin’s cock too; pretty and mouth-watering. But why settle for one piece of cake when you were offered two.

Bofur tasted just as lovely as Dwalin, and really, Bilbo didn’t need to do any work at all, it was all served to him to enjoy.  
  
Spread out over Dwalin like a blanket, his back to Dwalin’s chest, Dwalin gently worked him up and down on his cock in a way that made Bilbo’s toes curl and his fingers knead Dwalin’s forearms as if he was a cat settling in for a cuddle instead of a Hobbit being _very_ properly fucked.  
  
And sweet wonderful Bofur kneeling to the side feeding Bilbo his cock, only rocking his hips enough that Bilbo hardly had to bob his head at all, very careful not to choke him.  
  
The sixth time was while fucking Fíli, who indeed responded very well to having his hair pulled. And his nipples pinched. And his arse slapped, though Nori had to come over and help with that because it seemed a proper spanking required a bit more muscle than Bilbo could offer. 

The seventh was Dori again, and again in large part thanks to his mouth, but unlike before he now chose to nibble and kiss Bilbo’s nipples until they tingled and ached something fierce, and the slightest touch made Bilbo shiver and shudder and finally spurt all over his stomach.  
  
Seven times in one night completely wrecked his previous record of four; made when he and the oldest Bolger lass had crept away from a party to try and find out why everyone liked tumbling so much anyway. (To sum it up, they had understood it _very_ well.)  
  
Beginner’s luck, Bilbo had figured, but now he’d proved himself oh so very wrong indeed.                         

But back to his Dwarfs. Emphasis on _his_.  
  
Because things got a little more confusing the next morning, when Bilbo sussed out that it hadn’t been an orgy as much as the formation of, um… well, a _harem_ of all things!

Dwarfs, it turned out, were _really_ serious about this business with shiny stones.

-

“Don’t you want us?” Kíli asked, looking like a puppy Bilbo had just told that there’d be no dinner and it would also need to sleep outside in the rain.

Bilbo would of course never say something like that to a puppy, which was why he had some difficulty explaining his point of view to Kíli.

Especially since he _did_ want them. All of them. No one had gotten dressed, apart from him that was (he’d not particularly _wanted_ to, but he had felt the need to at least pull on his smallclothes) and there was so much skin on display that he didn’t know where to look but knew _exactly_ where he wanted to look at the same time.

Terribly greedy, he was well aware. Still, he wasn’t a complete cad.

“Finding a pretty rock does not meant get to have you,” he said gently and tried to ignore how lovely Kíli looked without any clothes on and with puffy lips and how he, Bilbo, really wanted to find a comb and sort out the young Dwarf's hair as it was even more of a mess than unusual. Although… when he’d tried to do that last night, using his fingers to comb through it, it had ended with Kíli straddling his lap, quite happily trying to find Bilbo’s tonsils with his tongue and-

Thorin waved his hand in front of Bilbo’s face and the Hobbit blinked.  
  
“If you are rejecting us, you could at least do us the favour of paying attention while you do so,” Thorin said, and Bilbo did not at all enjoy that familiar look of disapproval in his eyes.

He’d much preferred the glazed, dark-eyed look he’d gotten from Thorin while Balin had fucked him and Bilbo had, very helpfully, squirmed in a finger together with Balin’s cock, and then another when Thorin had made a low, pleased rumble in his chest, arching his back and-

Biting the inside of his cheek Bilbo tried not to get distracted again. More distracted.  
  
 _Seven_ _times_ he reminded himself. Y _ou’ll never be respectable again at this rate._  
  
“I’m not rejecting you-“  
  
Kíli perked up. “Really?”  
  
“Yes,” Bilbo said, meeting bright eyes and having something of a flashback to when he’d opened his door and first met this particular Dwarf. “No, but-“  
  
“Because I know I don’t have a lot of practice, not like uncle, or Nori, or Bofur-“  
  
“Name everyone why don’t you,” Fíli snorted.  
  
Kíli shot him an annoyed look before looking back at Bilbo. “But you did enjoy it? Us? Me?”  
  
“Yes, but-“  
  
“I liked it a lot,” Kíli murmured and cupped Bilbo’s cheek, and when exactly had he gotten so close. And how did he go from looking like a dejected puppy to _smouldering_ like that? And-

Thorin cleared his throat and Bilbo discovered that his hands had somehow ended up in Kíli’s hair and yes, it rather did need a combing. He casually worked out a snag as he, just as casually, retrieved his hands, pretending that he didn’t see the inviting, half-lidded look Kíli gave him.  
  
“Is it just Kíli you want then?” Ori asked with a rather small voice, and if Kíli was a puppy then Ori was a tiny kitten having been left outside in the rain.  
  
Also, note to self: he _really_ needed to stop it with the animal metaphors before he went too far and made himself uncomfortable. One did _not_ need to picture one’s lovers as house pets. Even if they were adorable and technically speaking not really going to be his lovers in the future anyway. Ah, principles. He used to have them.

Well more of them. Because it appeared he still had some.

“No,” Bilbo said, as firmly as he could. “Not just Kíli. But-“  
  
“You _did_ want it, didn’t you?” Bofur asked worriedly. “None of us want to overstep. If we have you must tell us.”  
  
“I very much wanted everything we did last night,” Bilbo assured.

And he had, even if his body appeared to have discovered some previously unused muscles which were now complaining about the state he’d left them in. Mostly the ones in his thighs, which felt a bit unfair considering the amount of walking he’d done over the last few months.

“But the fact that I liked it… that doesn’t mean that you have any obligation to offer it, _yourselves_ , to me just because I stumbled over the, the-“ He looked to Thorin who sighed and crossed his arms over his chest (which really made it _unfairly_ obvious just how much muscles he had in said arms and chest).  
  
“Arkenstone.”  
  
“That,” Bilbo nodded, clasping his hands together behind his back as to not get any bright ideas. "Just because I found that does it mean you've any oblig-"  
  
“Who said we did,” Nori drawled and sauntered up to plaster himself to Dwalin’s side, hand sneaking up to tweak one of the two silver rings hanging from the taller Dwarf’s nipples. “Have any obligation that is. I think you will find that no one had any of that.” He grinned at Bilbo and tweaked Dwalin's ring again. "I would not mind some of this though, want to watch?"  
  
Dwalin grunted and captured Nori’s hand, holding it still against his chest. Smirking up at him Nori did something with his other hand, something that Bilbo couldn’t quite see as it was behind Dwalin, but it made Dwalin twitch and growl, and the next moment he’d gathered Nori up and was carrying him off to the furs and blankets everyone had helped arrange in a cosy little, well not _that_ little, nest the night before.

Looking over Dwalin’s shoulder Nori smirked at Bilbo and blew him a kiss.  
  
“We are in the middle of a discussion,” Balin said, censure heavy in his voice.  
  
“You will speak for me,” Dwalin said as he knelt on the furs, gently putting Nori down.  
  
Bilbo wanted to ask if they were really going to… now? There? _Here_? With everyone else… Then again, it had been everyone else before as well. But still!  
  
Bifur said something and laughed, not unkindly, and as he’d heard his name between all those unfamiliar syllables, Bilbo turned to Bofur and looked questioningly at him.  
  
“I agree,” Bofur smiled. “You looked very fetching when you blush.”  
  
A little startled Bilbo looked at Bifur who grinned at him and winked.  
  
“Felching?” Óin asked, looking around for his hearing trumpet.

  
Ori, cheeks also tinged a bit pink, shrugged slightly. “If anyone wants,” he offered a little shyly.  
  
Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose. “If we could concentrate on the problem at hand.”  
  
“Problem?” Bilbo asked, a little offended that Thorin had looked straight at him as he’d said ‘problem’. “I’m far from being the problem here. I’m a- a- I’m not the one who comes into this with any extra baggage.”  
  
“What do you mean with that?” Balin asked.  
  
Bilbo shook his head. “Glóin’s married. And Thorin’s king, and, and- and you’ve never shown any interest before.” He looked around the room. “None of you have! Before I found that stone.”

The silence afterwards felt rather crushing. Albeit only for a few moments.  
  
“Right,” Nori said, pushing at Dwalin’s shoulder to be able to peer around him. “Did someone actually fuck him stupid last night or has he been this way all along?”  
  
“It wasn’t me,” Kíli said quickly. Then he gave Bilbo a rather sly look. “I could give it a go now? Maybe it would help?”  
  
“Like cures like you mean?” Fíli teased and Kíli stilled. For a moment. Then he growled and jumped Fíli, tumbling them both down on the floor where they rolled around and tussled until it wasn’t actually wrestling as much as writhing. Against each other, Kíli’s hands firmly planted on his brother’s arse, bucking up against him, moaning-  
  
“I rather think this conversation would have gone better if we’d all gotten dressed for it,” Balin sighed as Bofur nudged Bilbo to get his attention.  
  
“We’ve all been courting you.”  
  
If this day would decide to make sense, Bilbo would be much obliged.

‘You’ve _not_!’ would be rather childish. Which was why Bilbo instead tried: “But Glóin’s _married_.”  
  
“You don’t want to marry me, do you?” Glóin asked, looking a little concerned.  
  
Bilbo had no idea what the correct response would be. Would it be rude to admit that he didn’t? Glóin was rather wonderful, and his wife was lucky indeed considering what he could do with his mouth and- FOCUS.  
  
Bilbo pinched himself on the arm.  
  
It didn’t help.  
  
“I don’t,” he said, aiming for gentle but he suspected it came out as frustrated instead. “I’m quite happy not being married I’ve found. I’ve plenty of practice at it.”  
  
“Then what’s the problem?” Fíli asked. "You gave Thorin the Arkenstone and that's the best courting gift I've ever heard of." He scratched his head. "I really don't see what the problem is."  
  
“I have no idea,” Bilbo murmured.

“When I kissed you after you gave me the Arkenstone, you kissed me back,” Thorin said, rather petulantly for a king. It made his bottom lip stick out in a terribly appealing manner. "And you also accepted Fíli, and Nori, and-"  
  
“Mmmm,” Nori moaned from across the room. “ _Harder_.”

Pinching himself again helped Bilbo no more than the first time.  
  
-  
  
“So you _all_ wanted what happened last night.”  
  
Thirteen head nodded, though Dwalin’s only did so because it was already bobbing up and down as he sucked Nori’s cock. True to his word he was apparently quite done with the conversation.  
  
Tearing his eyes away Bilbo swept his gaze over the others.  
  
“And you _want_ it to happen again?”  
  
Nods all around again.  
  
“I could just- pick one or more of you?”  
  
“You make it sound like we’re apples,” Glóin huffed.  
  
Kíli raised his hand. “I don’t mind being an apple.”  
  
“I do,” Fíli and made a face. “Don’t make me think of those horrible barrels.”  
  
“Well then,” Bilbo said and rocked back on his heels a little nervously. Or perhaps it was more of a bounce. A slightly eager one. Perhaps very eager. “At your service.”  
  
“And we at yours,” Thorin rumbled, and yes, Bilbo _much_ preferred that pleased look compared to the frowning and glaring one.  
  
-  
  
Bilbo keened and shuddered as Kíli nudged inside of him, joining his brother.  
  
“Don’t. Move,” Fíli gritted out. “Or this will be over very quickly.”  
  
“I need to move,” Kíli whined. “Just a little, or this will be over anyway.” He rubbed his hands apologetically down Bilbo’s sides. “You’re fluttering around the head of my-“ he rocked his hips, making Fíli groan and Bilbo hide his face against the blond’s neck, panting wetly. “-cock. There. Much better.”  
  
Both Kíli’s and Fíli’s eyes grew round and alarmed as Bilbo stiffened before going limp between them.  
  
“Bilbo?”  
  
A little busy coming all over his and Fíli’s stomach, Bilbo couldn’t reply, but when a large hand cupped his face, he allowed it to turn his head to the side.  
  
“All right?” Bofur asked, and Bilbo used the last of his energy to let out a breathy little hum of agreement.  
  
-  
  
Óin muttered something beneath his breath as he gently prodded Bilbo’s opening, smearing a wonderfully cool oil around his flushed rim, then inside. Having assured himself that everything was as it should be, he started kneading Bilbo’s arse, continuing upwards, rubbing and stroking and caressing, until Bilbo felt like he was floating.  
  
He moaned out loud when Óin decided to head down instead, gently massaging Bilbo’s feet.

 _Indeed_ , Bilbo thought and rocked the beginnings of another cockstand against the soft fur beneath him . Adventures had distinct advantages. And he was even beginning to understand the appeal of shiny rocks.

-  
  
Meanwhile, Smaug was so disgusted with all the Dwarfs making a mess out of _his_ mountain that he took a wrong turn and ended flying north instead of south as he left to seek revenge on the Men who had sent them.

A few thousand of crispy Orcs later he rather realised his mistake, but when he arrived to Lake-town he huffed and puffed and couldn’t actually manage to set fire even to a match.  
  
He’d _literally_ cooled himself down as he’d taken his anger out on the Orcs.  
  
Smaug’s last thought as he disappeared down into the Long Lake, struck down by Bard the Bowman's arrow, was that _he_ wasn’t the one who needed a long cold bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done!
> 
> As usual, please let me know which story/stories you liked most :)  
> And if you'd like, tell me what pairings you'd like to see more of, AND, which pairings I've not yet done that you'd like to see?
> 
> AND NOW WE WELCOME FIX-IT DECEMBER WHERE NOTHING BAD HAPPENS, EVER. (OR IF IT DOES IT'S EASILY FIXED)  
> *applauds*
> 
> Keep your fingers crossed I can post something every day. Because unlike these I've not got a lot already written.  
> But stay tuned for the reverse Big Bang story for Fishsicle's art!


End file.
